


The Demons Within

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8623657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: When Jim denies his guide's shamanic potential, Blair is left open and vulnerable to attack from dark, outside influences.  Convinced that his presence is endangering Jim, he leaves, unwittingly putting both sentinel and guide at risk.  Their friends and colleagues must work to reunite the pair if they are to defeat an ancient evil.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after the episode 'Warriors', but diverges from canon before SenToo, which I still think should never have happened!   
> My first TS horror story, it was inspired by an original idea from Pattrose. Thanks for sharing, Patt. :)
> 
> Kate x

**Introduction: The Nightmare Begins:**   


**Early Sunday morning in Jim’s bedroom, #307, 852 Prospect:**  


Blair stretched luxuriously, revelling in the feel of high quality cotton against his naked skin. Opening his eyes to the soft early morning sunshine streaming through the skylight, he took a moment to catalogue and appreciate his current condition, unbelievably contented with both the way he felt, and the reasons behind his satisfaction and overall well-being. He felt languid and sated; his limbs relaxed and almost limp, while parts of him protested a little from unaccustomed use. But in no bad way, and he smiled softly as he recalled the passion of the previous evening. 

After months of unrequited longing and lusting after his buff, Greek god of a roommate and friend, Detective Jim Ellison, Jim had finally reciprocated, declaring himself as much in love with Blair as the younger man was with him. Blair had been overjoyed, explaining excitedly how he felt about Jim. About how he had swiftly graduated from thinking of Jim objectively as a test subject, through hero-worship to real friendship to outright adoration, although he confessed that he had been afraid to confront the object of his desire in case he offended or grossed Jim out to the point of ruining the relationship they already had. But apparently he had had no need to worry. Jim told him he felt the same way, and ushering a very compliant Blair up to his big bedroom, had proceeded to make love to the smaller man with a depth of passion and expertise that Blair had never believed he would ever experience. And he had reciprocated in kind, until both men were satiated and exhausted, smiling softly into each other’s eyes until sleep finally claimed them. 

Glancing over to the other side of the big bed, Blair grinned to see his new lover still sleeping soundly with his back to Blair, only his short, soft brown hair visible above the covers. He did feel a tiny pang of disappointment in not waking up to find himself still wrapped in those powerful arms, but he quickly quelled the fleeting thought. No doubt Jim had felt too hot during the night and had shifted over a little to get some space. Blair could hardly blame the man, because it wasn’t as if Jim had been used to sharing his bed with a partner in quite a while, especially a clinging, hairy octopus of an amorous anthropologist. 

Grin widening, he decided to wake his partner in the best way he knew how, so he reached across and gently grasped a blanket-covered shoulder in order to turn Jim over towards him. 

“Come on, lover,” he murmured seductively. “Let me show you how much I love you…” and he pulled hard enough for the lax body to fall onto its back. 

And immediately screamed in utter terror and shock. 

The face that flopped over to stare at him grinned through the strips of rotting skin and sinew that yet held skull and jaw together. The yellowed eyeballs, still in their sockets, seemed to mock him as he scrabbled frantically backwards, trying to put as much distance between him and the putrefying corpse as possible, until he fell out of bed and onto the floor. 

And woke up with a start, momentarily disorientated to find himself back in his small room under the stairs; huddled on the floor and tangled in bedding now drenched in the cold sweat of fear. 

_Oh, man! Oh man, what WAS that? Holy crap! Thank the goddess it was a dream! Wasn’t it? Jim wasn’t – **couldn’t** – be dead!_ His terrified mind gibbered in distress as he gazed wildly around him, eyes wide and barely focussed as he tried to blink away the salt of sweat that trickled down his brow and over his eyelids to cling to his thick lashes and the tears of pure misery that threatened to spill over and down his cheeks. 

Even as he tried to take stock of the situation, shakily attempting to untangle trembling limbs from his uncooperative sheets, he heard a disembodied voice from above, the concern unmistakable as Jim trotted down to check on his roommate. 

“Blair? You OK, Sandburg? I heard a thump. And you were yelling.” 

“Um, yeah, I’m OK,” Blair managed to reply, his relief evident even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to disguise the tremor in his voice, especially from sentinel-sensitive hearing. 

“Just a bad dream, is all. Fell out of bed,” he added with a forced chuckle, trying for self-deprecating humour to dispel his friend’s anxiety. “I’m fine, Jim, really. Go back to sleep, man.” 

However, he knew even as he said it that Jim would ignore him, the man’s protective nature not allowing him to disregard any threat to his guide, however small. 

Sure enough, seconds later Jim appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers, and with his sleep mask pushed up high on his forehead. If Blair hadn’t been so shaken, no doubt he would have truly appreciated the sight, the glorious figure a combination of walking wet dream with a touch of whimsy due to the mask and the way it made Jim’s short hair stand on end. 

“You don’t look fine, Chief. You look like you just had one hell of a nightmare, kiddo. Want to tell me about it?” The concern in his expression and tone of voice warmed Blair although he really didn’t want Jim to see him like this. It was bad enough finding out that his dream of mutual desire and passionate sex was indeed just that, even without the horrific nightmare ending. He really didn’t need to appear as an even worse wuss than usual in his partner’s eyes, and he blushed beet red as he muttered bashfully in response. 

“No, really, man, don’t worry. It’s not like I haven’t had nightmares before. It’s just one of those things, Big Guy. My subconscious’ way of processing stuff. Cleaning out the emotional cupboards, you know? Don’t concern yourself, OK? I’ll just meditate for a while. Get my head back together then try to get some more sleep. You go on up, Jim. You need your sleep too. Make the most of your day off.” 

Plainly unconvinced, Jim backed out anyway, not wanting to make his roommate any more uncomfortable than he already was. But he really hoped he would be able to prise a little more information out of his evasive friend in the morning. Blair had gathered far too much nightmare material already during his partnership with Jim, and Jim hated to witness any more distress in an essentially good and gentle soul. 

“If you’re sure, Chief? But call me if you need me, OK?” and he backed out of the room again when Blair nodded his assent, trying to reassure the big cop with a wan smile. 

_Oh, I need you, all right, Jim. I’ll always need you, my man. But like Naomi says, ‘want doesn’t get’, so I guess I’m never going to get you that way. And that sucks!_

With a heavy sigh, Blair dragged the damp bedding back onto his bed and did his best to settle down again. The sheets felt icky, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. And since changing the linens would mean leaving the psychological protection of his own cosy space and venturing out into the dark and echoing loft, he decided that his nerves would be better served by staying put. What was it Scarlett O’Hara said? 

Oh yeah. _Tomorrow is another day._

And on that thought, he fell asleep again.  


\---------------------------------  


Upstairs, once again in his big bed, Jim lay awake for a while longer, monitoring his friend and doing a bit of his own processing. His brow wrinkled as he considered Blair’s recent behaviour, the new skittishness worrying as he tried to come up with reasons for it. True, Blair had always been a bundle of bounce and energy ever since they met. His constant chatter and agile, active brain made for a sometimes tiring, but always entertaining companion, even though some, like their boss Simon Banks, didn’t always appreciate it. As far as he was concerned, the anthropologist was a necessary evil, without whom his lead detective wouldn’t be able to function properly, but he didn’t have to like it, and his patience often wore thin. 

But even allowing for Blair’s normal ‘energiser bunny’ type activity, lately he’d been jumpier than usual, especially when Jim touched him, which the bigger man was wont to do whenever he could. Blair’s physical presence grounded his senses and calmed him better than anything or anyone else could, but more often than not, these days his casual pats and hugs were met with nervous starts, almost as if Blair were afraid of him. He’d mentioned the fact to Blair, who had immediately denied it, going into some long spiel designed to distract Jim, but Jim was only too familiar with his partner’s virtuoso obfuscating abilities, so wasn’t in the least bit convinced. 

It was a mystery, all right, and one Jim would dearly love to unravel, mostly, it had to be said, for his own sake. Because he’d gotten used to having the young man around in his life and his work, and he knew for a fact that if Blair chose to leave after the dissertation was done, Jim would feel bereft. 

Yes, he would definitely try to pin his guide down soon and get him to talk. Get him to ‘fess up to what was making him so jumpy lately, so that they could do something about it. And maybe then Blair wouldn’t have cause for any more nightmares. Because this one had certainly been a doozy, and it hurt Jim to let the young man suffer alone, despite his protestations. 

Noting however that at last Sandburg seemed to have fallen asleep again, he shoved the problem aside for now, and followed his friend into sleep.  


\-----------------------------  


**Three days previously, MCU bullpen:**  


At around noon, the bullpen doors burst open to admit the miniature whirlwind otherwise known as Blair Sandburg. As Jim looked up from the paperwork on his desk, a sardonic grin already pulling at his lips, Blair bounced across the room towards him, calling greetings and waving to everyone he met on his way. On arriving at Jim’s side, he grinned cheekily up into the bigger man’s face, his big blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he chuckled, the throaty sound going straight to Jim’s groin before he had a chance to get himself under control. 

“Hey, man, how about that? I’m early for once! Bet you can’t guess why!” 

Scowling in mock irritation even though he was fully aware that he wasn’t fooling Blair one iota, Jim replied snarkily, “Well, let me see, Darwin. Could it be that your latest lady friend has given you the old ‘heave-ho’ so you don’t need to hang around chatting her up after class?” 

However, as soon as the words had left his lips Jim could have bitten his tongue. Blair’s face fell at the cruel reference to his perceived rep as a rabid skirt-chaser, and a blush pinked the smaller man’s cheeks for a moment as his wounded gaze met Jim’s. Even if it had been true, Jim’s comment was hurtful, and it was especially so since it was based on a misconception. Because yes, Blair did date a lot, and always women since he moved into the loft. But if Jim and his colleagues did but know it, he rarely slept with any of them. He was simply a ‘people person’ who liked company, and if he couldn’t enjoy the company he really wanted, he had no option but to look elsewhere. 

Swallowing down his hurt, he somehow kept his voice steady as he replied. “No, Jim. Sorry to disappoint you, man, but nothing like that. It’s just that I’ve been invited to attend a prestigious one-day conference the Anthro Department’s set up for Saturday on ancient and modern belief systems and alternative religions and customs, and I wanted to see if you’d like to come with me seeing as you have the weekend off. 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” he continued resignedly, seeing the flash of distaste that Jim couldn’t quite prevent from colouring his expression. “Should have guessed you had other plans. Not really your sort of thing, huh?” 

Now Jim really did feel like the worst kind of heel. Not only had he hurt his guide’s feelings with his skirt-chasing jibe, but he’d also succeeded in confirming Blair’s belief that Jim was totally disinterested in his studies and his work at the U, undoubtedly considering it to be not a ‘real’ job at all. 

He knew he had to make some sort of reparation whether he liked it or not, because the last thing he wanted to do was open a rift between them, especially in the face of Blair’s recent jumpiness. He needed his guide, and if he had to put up with being bored out of his skull at some esoteric lectures and weird-ass exhibitions for once, then he’d do it. 

“Look, Chief, I didn’t mean it, OK? I know I was out of line with that pathetic excuse for a witticism, OK? Let’s go get an early lunch and you can tell me all about Saturday’s agenda, want to?” 

Blair gazed at him assessingly for a few seconds, and Jim knew that he’d been found wanting. You couldn’t fool a Sandburg with a lame excuse for an apology like that, but then again, the young man was nothing if not forgiving, always looking for the best in everyone. So Jim was able to release an inner sigh of relief when Blair nodded and grinned up at him, his happiness restored once again. 

“Sure Jim. As long as you’re buying?” 

And Jim laughed aloud as he agreed. “OK, Junior. You got it. Just this once,” and he threw an arm around his smaller friend’s shoulders, trying not to respond to the infinitesimal flinch, quickly suppressed, that followed the action. A flinch which would have gone unnoticed to anyone but a sentinel who knew what he was looking for. 

Oh yes, they both had things to discuss and work through all right. And he would begin by accompanying Blair to this wretched conference at the U.  


\-------------------------------  


**Saturday morning, Rainier University campus:**  


Blair bounced along beside his taller companion, his exuberance evident in his constant stream of chatter, and the expressive hands that waved around in counterpoint to his excited words. Looking down fondly at his happy guide, Jim couldn’t help but grin at the young man’s antics even though he was less than interested in the subject matter of the mini lectures, content just to let the soothing tones wash over him and ground his senses. Although he was hardly looking forward to the lectures to which Blair wanted Jim to accompany him, he couldn’t help enjoying being the younger man’s centre of attention for a few hours. He was ruefully well aware that they had had little enough one-on-one time over the past few weeks, what with Blair being up to his neck in mid-term exams, and Jim’s caseload being particularly heavy of late, so he intended to make the most of this time together as possible. 

Suddenly, however, his attention was quickly brought back into focus as he belatedly picked up on Blair’s latest topic, and it wasn’t something Jim wanted to hear. 

“What was that again, Chief?” he queried, hoping that he had misheard what his guide had been saying. 

Blair looked up at him with fond exasperation. “You mean to tell me you’ve actually been taking on board some of the stuff I’ve been regaling you with, man? Well, who am I to turn down the opportunity of actually repeating something of interest to you!” he added in gentle mockery. 

“I said, Jim, that one of the guest speakers is of particular interest to me. I know you probably won’t have heard of him, but in anthro circles, he’s very well known. Professor Joshua Ambrose is from New Orleans, and he’s possibly the most revered expert in shamanism and spiritualism in both indigenous peoples and in modern-day alternative cultures.” Then he ducked his head before adding more diffidently, “Um, I thought I’d try and introduce myself after his lecture. See if I can get him to talk about the best way to go about studying real shamanism as opposed to theory. You know, after what Incacha said?” 

Jim bridled immediately, his hackles going up as he glared down at his guide in disbelief. _Well, shit! I knew it was too good to be true to think that Blair would have forgotten what Incacha told him! But since he never talked about it after I cut him off after Incacha’s death I had to hope for the best! I don’t want him to get burdened with all that crap. The last thing we need is more spiritual shit between us. I’ve got to try and put him off._

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Sandburg! I don’t care what crap Incacha told you! He was dying – probably hallucinating. I would never have translated that nonsense if I’d have thought you’d take it seriously. Just forget it, huh? No way you’re a shaman, kiddo. I knew one, after all, and I can tell you that you don’t have what it takes. Even _bona fide_ shamans have to study for many years from an early age to seek enlightenment. You _know_ that, Darwin! So what makes you think you have the gift or the time?” 

He knew he had hurt Blair deeply, but couldn’t retract his words for his guide’s own sake. Blair had enough on his plate what with his diss, his teaching, taking classes and acting as friend and guide to a cranky, middle-aged cop of a sentinel. And that spiritual crap was unsettling, if not downright dangerous. He had to nip it in the bud, and right now. 

Blair stood before him, momentarily speechless with shock and disappointment, but suddenly his expression morphed from pain and hurt to one of pure fury. Almost spluttering in his anger, his response was hissed rather than shouted, and all the more effective for that. 

“I don’t believe you, man! How can you say that? You heard him yourself, Jim. Why would he have passed the Way of the Shaman to me if he thought I couldn’t do it? Do you really think so little of me, man? What do I have to do to prove myself to you, Jim? _What?”_

His rage burning out as rapidly as it had arisen, he deflated under Jim’s icy regard, his self-confidence once again mortally wounded by his sentinel’s harsh words and weight of conviction. 

Sighing deeply, he looked away, gnawing at his lower lip before muttering softly in a voice broken by deep emotion. “I hear you, man. Whatever. I won’t mention it again, OK? 

“But does this mean that you want me to leave, Jim? Is it over, or are we still good?” 

The pained plea drove a spike of remorse through Jim’s heart, and he knew he had to do something, and quickly, to repair the damage he had done to their friendship before it all came crashing down about his feet. His own expression now softening to one of genuine concern, Jim replied feelingly, “No, Chief. I don’t want you to leave. Not at all. It’s just that I can’t watch you beating yourself up trying to do something you’re not cut out to do. You’re doing a great job working with me, kiddo. Let’s not spoil it with more of Simon’s ‘Sentinel Voodoo’ crap, OK?” 

And he was enormously relieved when Blair seemed to accept his explanation. So much so that he thought it only fair to offer his guide a bit of a consolation prize to soften the hurt. 

“Look, just because we agree that you shouldn’t try and take on more than you can cope with, doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy the lecture anyway. I’m still game if you are?” And he was even more relieved when Blair offered him a small, if somewhat reluctant grin. 

“OK, Jim. If you’re sure?” At Jim’s nod of assent, they walked together towards Hargrove Hall’s main lecture theatre, their friendship still intact, if strained. And as they walked, Jim mentally kicked himself for being instrumental in crushing his young guide’s earlier excitement and happy anticipation, telling himself firmly that it was for Blair’s own good. 

Pity he didn’t find his own argument all that convincing either. 

And if he’d had any inkling of what Blair intended to do later that day, he would have known for sure that his dire warnings had fallen on deaf ears.  


\-------------------------------------  


**Later that afternoon:**  


Jim returned alone to the loft, having been - as his roommate cheerfully put it – completely ‘Anthro’ed out’. Not that he hadn’t had a better time overall than he’d expected, but enough was enough, and Blair had insisted that he was happy to spend a last few hours circulating with his friends and colleagues. 

“It’s fine, man. You go on home and grab a beer. I’m just going to talk anthro-speak with a few fellow nerds for a while, then I’ll be back. And I just wanted to say thanks for coming with me today, man. I appreciate it. Really.” 

“You’re welcome, Chief,” Jim had responded with genuine feeling. “I freely admit I had a good time after all, kiddo. Especially the lecture by Eli about the Chopec. Guess you knew I’d enjoy that, eh?” 

And Blair had blushed with pleasure at Jim’s words, saying, “Yeah, well. I hoped you’d like it, man. Just as long as it brought back some good memories for you. It did, didn’t it?” he added a little anxiously, his low self-esteem peeking through yet again. 

“Yes, it did, Darwin, so no worries, OK? To quote our esteemed Australian colleague. Go; enjoy the rest of the afternoon!” And Blair had beamed at him for a moment before taking his leave, apparently having forgotten their earlier disagreement, for which Jim was extremely grateful.  


\----------------------------  


Sitting comfortably in front of the TV, beer in hand as he flicked through the channels searching for the most recent Jags game, Jim pondered on his own emotions and reactions to their argument and the potentially contentious following lecture. Still upset and concerned for both Blair’s emotional state and that of their relationship, he had been pleasantly surprised both with the content of the lecture and its speaker. Dr Ambrose himself was an imposing figure. A few years older than Jim, he was around Jim’s height and well-built, but without such well-defined musculature. His thick thatch of sandy hair was liberally shot through with grey, and his regular features belonged to a face that might have appeared slightly saturnine if not for the dark brown eyes. Expressive eyes that gave the impression that they could either twinkle with mischief and bright intelligence as now, or look right into your very soul. 

Ambrose’s delivery was witty and affable, informative without condescension; very similar, in fact, to that of Blair himself. And because of that, far from being bored, Jim found himself listening with growing interest. Despite himself, he absorbed what the man had to say about shamanism, somewhat surprised to find that he agreed with many of the professor’s observations, having experienced them for himself during his stay in the Chopec village. And of course he couldn’t fail to notice that Blair was hanging on every word. 

He was greatly relieved therefore when he managed to coax Blair away from the group of admirers who gathered around Ambrose at the end of the lecture, claiming to have developed a prodigious thirst and need for a beer. And to his credit, Blair had simply smiled knowingly and followed him to the bar without question; something which in hindsight would strike Jim as being completely out of character.  


\-------------------------------  


Back at Rainier, Blair was indeed having a very interesting and informative time. He admitted to himself that he was still upset by Jim’s unbending stance on the subject of Blair’s interest in shamanism, but he had no intention of letting that put him off. He was convinced that Incacha would never have handed over responsibility for the sentinel if Blair wasn’t up to the task. Or at least that was what he tried to tell himself, despite the niggling voice within that murmured that it was only because he was the only available candidate at the time. 

Then again, even if that was the case, he still owed it to the dying shaman and to Jim to do his best, and that was what he intended to do whether Jim approved or not. 

With that in mind, he deliberately sought out the coffee lounge where Professor Ambrose was holding court, hoping to beg a moment of the great man’s time. And was completely overawed when the learned man welcomed him with open arms, willingly including him in the erudite group discussion carrying on around them as he lavished Blair with far more attention than Blair would ever have expected as a lowly TA and grad student. 

Later still, he was more than happy to be invited up to the Professor’s room for a nightcap, and to meet the man’s partner, who was herself a well-respected expert and lecturer on the occult. Tall, dark and very striking, Dr Amelia Constantine had greeted him graciously, settling him on the sofa in the living area of their temporary accommodation. 

With drinks in hand, the three had talked far into the night on the several aspects of shamanism that Blair wanted to clarify, and it was only when he realised how the time had flown by that he finally excused himself with many grateful words of thanks both for the couple’s hospitality and their freely-offered advice and information. Although he had carefully refrained from explaining exactly why he was so interested in the subject, he felt that he now had enough pointers to be able to continue his studies with more confidence, hopefully to eventually achieve his goal of being accepted by Jim, if by no one else, as a real shaman worthy of the title. 

He would soon have lost the happy glow of contentment for an enjoyable evening well-spent if he could have heard the conversation that carried on in the room after his departure.  


\-------------------------------  


“So, darling. Am I right, or am I right? Have you ever seen such a delectable young man? He’s perfect! In no time at all I’ll have him eating out of my hand despite his intellectual brilliance. Or perhaps because of it! Such a coup, or what?” 

A smug Ambrose drew his compliant partner into his arms, his self-satisfaction plain to see as he grinned down into her cool but receptive gaze. 

“Well, I suppose you have reason, my dear,” his partner responded with a languid twitch of her neatly-manicured eyebrow. “I agree that he’s pretty, and intriguing too. But what exactly do you see in him that makes him special? Makes him worth the effort of entrapping? Is he to be some sort of ‘Renfield’? A dupe to your brilliance, my darling? Because we’ve had more than enough of them! And it’s so tedious having to get rid of them.” 

Ambrose couldn’t help but grin at her assumed pout, kissing her with no little passion before answering her question. 

“Oh no, darling! He’s no Renfield, I assure you. I noticed him immediately, as soon as he entered the lecture theatre. Blair is the real thing, my darling. He has power he has no idea that he owns. He fairly glows with it! I couldn’t believe my luck when I read his aura! You should have seen it, my dear. Indeed, I’m surprised you didn’t see it while he was here!” 

“Who’s to say I didn’t, darling,” Amelia purred. “But I’d still like you to explain just how he can be of use to us?” 

Turning his lover around to face him, Ambrose was only too happy to comply. 

“Fair enough, my dear. You see, as soon as I saw him, and that Neanderthal thug who accompanied him, I knew exactly what he was. What he could be. A powerful nascent shaman with the capability of controlling the elements with the right training! Think what we could achieve with that sort of power at our command, my darling! But not as long as he is wasting his time as a mere companion to that _Watchman!”_ and he almost spat out that last term with the greatest distaste. 

“But I also realised tonight that they haven’t completed their bond. It can still be broken, and then he will be ours! Ours to train, and ours to manipulate. And to enjoy, if you so desire. And I can do it so easily, my love, given time. And we have plenty of that. In fact, the process has already begun. The power of suggestion is a wonderful thing….”  


\-----------------------------  


**Part 1: Irreconcilable Differences:**  


**Several days later, the loft:**  


Deeply troubled, Jim frowned at the dishevelled wreck that emerged slowly from the small room under the stairs. Blair looked truly dreadful; his glorious curls, now lank and greasy, falling forward to partially cover a drawn and pallid face. His eyes were encircled with shadows like bruises, and there was no discernible spark of energy to be seen as he shuffled stiffly towards the bathroom. Jim knew for a fact that the young man hadn’t had any proper rest or food for days now, and judging by the moans and thrashing sounds coming from his room every night, what little sleep he did get was constantly disturbed by nightmares, the like of which Jim couldn’t even guess. Because Blair resolutely refused to discuss them with his roommate, and had done so ever since the early hours of that Sunday morning when Jim had run downstairs to find his guide on the floor. Not only that, but Blair positively shied away from contact with Jim now, his eyes beseeching even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain his reasons. And he hadn’t been seen in the bullpen during that time either, making all the excuses under the sun not to accompany Jim to the PD. It couldn’t go on. If the break had to come, then Jim wanted it to be over with. He couldn’t bear to watch Blair suffer, any more than he could stand the stress of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stiffening his resolve, he positioned himself close to the bathroom door, so that Sandburg couldn’t avoid him or what he had to say. They were going to have this out now, one way or the other. 

From Blair’s point of view, things could hardly get worse. He knew that Jim needed him to talk; to explain what was going on with him; but since he didn’t really know for sure himself what the outcome would be, he had put it off for as long as he dared. Because he still loved Jim with all his heart. He loved the man, as well as the sentinel, and because of that he knew he had to leave him, even if it meant breaking his own heart. But the demons that haunted him every night, demons that appeared to him in nightmares of death and destruction, were proof enough that he didn’t belong here any longer. Because it was always Jim’s death that featured in his dreams. And it was always Blair himself who caused it, even if unintentionally. Time and again he failed in his duty as a guide, and time and again Jim paid for that failure with his life. Blair had hoped for a while that he could protect Jim simply by withdrawing his support out in the field. He fancifully imagined that maybe they could still have some sort of relationship even without riding together, but he knew that was completely unrealistic. If he couldn’t carry out his duty as guide without endangering his sentinel, then he had to leave so that Jim could find a guide who could do the job properly. 

But it was so hard. So hard to actually find the courage to leave the first proper home and the first real friend he had ever had. 

However, when he emerged from the bathroom that morning, he knew the time had come. From the look on Jim’s face he knew that there would be no more avoidance, and he knew what he had to do. He just needed the courage to do it. 

“Uh, Jim, man,” he croaked, eyeing his partner warily. “What’s up? I thought you’d have left by now?” 

“Nuh huh, Chief. I called Simon and told him I needed a couple hours’ personal time. We need to talk, Chief, and I’m not putting it off any longer.” 

Although Blair was expecting it, he was still shocked and upset, and initially decided to go on the offensive to cover his distress. “Well, what if I don’t want to, Jim? What if I’ve got nothing to say to you? Gonna try and make me talk?” 

Jim’s face darkened in anger, and he straightened up, his back and shoulders stiff with barely-controlled aggression. 

“What makes you think I’ll take _that_ as an answer, Sandburg? If you won’t talk to me, then I think perhaps we have nothing to say to each other anyway. And if that’s the way you want it, you got it, bucko. You have one minute to start explaining your recent behaviour, or else you can start packing. You plainly want nothing to do with me or our partnership anymore. But if you think you can still write about me, think again, buddy-boy. Because I withdraw my consent, OK?” 

He hated to see the pain and dismay on Blair’s face, and for a moment it looked as if the young man was about to either cave in or burst into tears, but he seemed to shake himself as his face hardened again. His voice breaking with the effort not to scream in defiance, Blair glared at his erstwhile partner as he responded. “Fine! I get it! I’m to get nothing for my time spent backing you up for these last few years. And now I’m out on the street too! Well, OK, Jim. I’ll go. I’ll start packing right away, man!” and he brushed roughly past Jim to hurry to his small room, knowing that the tears he was desperately trying not to shed were about to let loose anyhow. 

Shaken to the core, Jim watched him go, not at all sure what had just happened. Yes, he had been determined to talk to Blair, but how had things gone to hell so quickly? Suddenly his guide was leaving without any valid explanation. Nearly three years of growing friendship, trust and understanding out of the door, just like that. And as he stood motionless, unable even to approach the small understairs room, he heard Blair’s muffled sobs as he threw his things together into his backpack, silently following his progress as he emerged with his ready-packed ‘escape’ duffel in one hand and his backpack over his shoulder. He didn’t so much as glance at Jim as he hurried past; head down and shoulders hunched as if he expected a blow as he made for the door. And he didn’t utter another word as he grabbed his car keys from the basket and dropped his key to the apartment into the same basket. Seconds later, the door slammed behind him, and Jim heard his running feet descending the stairs and carrying him out of the building to where his Volvo was parked out front. And even when he heard the badly-tuned engine wheeze to life to bear his partner away down the street and away from him he couldn’t move. Not until even sentinel hearing could no longer track the fleeing guide. 

Then, and only then, did Jim shake himself and stumble over to the kitchen. It might still be morning, but he needed a drink. Reaching into the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer and popped the top, chugging down half the bottle in one go before sinking down onto a kitchen chair. 

What had he done? Where had everything gone wrong? Downing the rest of the beer, he got up and fetched another before seating himself on the sofa, staring sightlessly at the blank TV screen while his mind tried to get to grips with the events of the last hour.  


\--------------------------------  


It was some time later when Simon arrived, concerned that his detective hadn’t turned up as expected and wasn’t answering either his cell phone or the landline. Using his spare ‘emergency’ key, he entered the loft to see Jim still sitting there, empty beer bottles at his feet while the message light on the cordless phone blinked brightly in the gathering gloom of a typical Cascade overcast and rainy day. 

Squatting down on front of the silent figure, Simon was shocked to see the dried tear tracks on Jim’s cheeks, his own troubled expression full of sympathy and care as he spoke to his distressed friend. “What’s wrong, Jim? What’s happened? Tell me, man. Is there something I can do?” 

After long moments, Jim raised wounded eyes to meet Simon’s expectant gaze, his own voice harsh as he tried to explain something he still didn’t understand or even quite believe. 

“He’s gone, Simon. Blair’s gone. We argued, and I told him to leave if he didn’t tell me what was wrong with him. And he did. He packed up and he went. Oh gods, what have I done?”  


\---------------------------------------  


**Several weeks later, MCU bullpen:**  


Slumping down in her seat, Megan Conner turned to her usual partner, a worried frown marring her pretty face. Glancing over to where Jim Ellison was sitting, an angry frown twisting his features as he glared at some report on his desk, Megan sighed heavily as she met Joel Taggert’s sympathetic gaze. 

“This is awful, Joel. He’s getting worse. Falling apart before our very eyes, and there’s nothing we can do about it! Ever since Sandy left he’s been turning into a progressively bigger arse-hole. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he’s been like a bull in a china shop. Or someone in complete denial. He won’t even mention Sandy’s name unless he has no option, and for sure he’s getting really antsy to work with. He nearly bit my head off the other day when we were sent to that suspected break-in at Brackley’s Jewellery Emporium, and only because I happened to suggest that he would be better served with Sandy as his partner. I mean, I don’t know why – in fact, I’m pretty sure none of us do – but when they worked together, things seemed to fall into place so easily. And now it’s like working with a bear with a sore head. And I do mean sore! How on earth did Sandy cope? And why did he leave? It’s so bloody unfair, Joel. For all of us.” 

Patting her shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort, Joel nodded in rueful assent. “I know, Megs. And I agree. Jim’s falling apart all right, but there’s nothing we can do about it unless he accepts our help. I just wish I knew how to contact Blair. Or rather, if I have any right to try. I loved that boy, Megs, like the son I never had. I just don’t understand how he could have walked out like that without a really good reason. 

“I mean,” he added, somewhat diffidently, “At one stage I thought that they were close enough to be – um –partners in every sense of the word. They seemed to be joined at the hip. Completely in sync. And it wouldn’t have bothered me at all,” he added, with a touch of defiance. 

“Hey, me neither,” Megan was quick to agree. “But every chance I’ve had to try and contact Sandy, I’ve come up against a bloody brick wall! It’s as if he’s scared of meeting with anyone from MCU. Or anyone who’s likely to push him into talking to Jimbo. Short of actually confronting him in his office at the U, I just don’t know what else I can do,” and she sighed deeply again, turning to gaze sadly over at her colleague once again. 

“Well, all I can say is that I’ll try again today, Megs. Simon has assigned me to accompany Jim to a routine courtesy call at one of the Mayor’s golfing buddy’s offices because he’s a bit worried about how diplomatic Jim is likely to be – or not! Seems the poor benighted guy has had some problems with security. Sad but true!” he added, with a wry grin. “But at least it might allow me the opportunity to talk to Jim. Get to the bottom of things?” 

“You do that, Joel. And the best of luck, mate!” Megan replied, hoping against hope that Joel might be able to get through to their irascible colleague when no one else had managed so far.  


\---------------------------------------------  


During the same period of time, Blair had been quietly getting on with his life, such as it now was. But the sparkle had gone from his eyes, as had the better part of the effervescence and energy that had been so quintessentially Sandburg. He still taught and studied voraciously, but there was no real joy in it. Just a grim determination to do what he believed was necessary for all concerned. 

After two or three nights sleeping on the ratty sofa in his office, he had managed to secure a room in a house shared by three other TAs. It was shabby and cheap, only slightly bigger than his room at the loft, but it offered a modicum of privacy during the short time he spent there. For the most part, when he wasn’t teaching, he was either buried in the library’s bookstacks, reading and studying everything he could get his hands on about shamanism, or working hard in his office to complete his dissertation. His alternative dissertation. 

Since Jim had withdrawn his permission for Blair to write about him as his test subject, Blair had reluctantly approached his diss committee with an alternative topic. As he had once confessed to Jim, he had actually accrued enough material for several dissertations, only delaying completion of the Sentinel paper because he didn’t want to give Simon an excuse to pull his pass. And to be fair, his committee were only too pleased to agree the change of subject, as they had been growing increasingly impatient with his lack of progress thus far. So now he was writing about the ‘Thin Blue Line’ after all, and it was very nearly finished. It was a competent enough paper, and Blair was pretty sure it would secure for him those three much desired letters after his name, but his heart wasn’t really in it as it had been for the Sentinel diss. But such was life. And he hoped in the future to be able to re-write the Sentinel diss as a sort of self-help manual for those others who also suffered from heightened senses, or thought they knew someone who might, because all he had ever wanted to do was help people. 

Like he had wanted to help Jim. 

But he knew now that he had been right to leave. His very first night away from the loft had been dream-free, and had been so ever since; proof enough for the heart-broken young man that he wasn’t meant to be Jim’s guide after all, and that his presence was therefore a danger to the very man he loved with everything he had. 

The break had been so clean that he hadn’t even met with Jim face to face since that last argument. When he had found somewhere to stay, he had emailed Jim at the PD to ask politely if there was a convenient time to collect the rest of his meagre possessions. Jim had replied brusquely with a time and date, but when Blair approached #307, his stomach churning with a mixture of anxious apprehension and desire to see the sentinel just once more, he had found his stuff already packed into boxes and stacked out in the hallway. And of Jim, there was no sign. Desperately disappointed, but resigned, Blair had collected his things and left, vowing never to trouble Jim again. 

So now here he was. On the threshold of achieving his doctorate, and perhaps even getting tenure not too far down the line. And he had never been so lonely in his life. 

The one thing he was determined to do, however, was to try his best to live up to Incacha’s expectations. Even if he wasn’t able to be Jim’s guide now, he hoped that maybe, just maybe he might be worthy of doing so in the future if he could learn how to be a real shaman. And if Jim could ever find it in his heart to forgive Blair for walking out on him. But what else could he have done under the circumstances? Above all, it was up to Blair to keep Jim safe, and he could only do that by staying away until he had completed his training satisfactorily. 

He was sitting in his office, grading test papers for his Anthro 101 class when there was a knock on the door. He looked up, a slight frown on his face as he set aside the paper he was working on. It wasn’t student office hours, and most other people who had cause to visit him simply knocked and walked straight in. Curious, he called out an invitation, only to slump back in his seat in shock as Megan Conner strode in, the stormy expression on her pretty face a combination of anger and hurt. In fact, she looked as if she was about to burst into tears at any moment, so Blair leapt to his feet, intending to help her into the visitor’s chair in front of his untidy desk. She accepted his assistance with a stiff nod, but as soon as he was seated again, she let into him in fury. 

“Where the bloody hell have you been, Sandy? Do you _know_ what it’s been like working with Jimbo since you left? Bloody terrible, that’s what! The poor man doesn’t know whether to be furious or grief-stricken half the time, and the other half he’s suffering something awful from headaches and such. And now he’s gone and got himself shot! What are you going to do about it?” And now she actually was crying, which for Megan was shame indeed, and wholly out of character. 

As for Blair, he sat in stunned silence for a moment, before the shock and fear registered, and his face drained of all colour. “Oh goddess! How is he? Is he OK? Tell me, Megan! What happened?” 

Megan stared speculatively at him, wiping angrily at the irritating wetness on her cheeks. It was obvious that Blair’s reaction was genuine, and that he was desperately worried on Jim’s account, so she told him, holding nothing back. She told him how Jim had gone out with Joel on a routine call that morning, only to interrupt an attempted robbery at a nearby gas station. Joel had kept the would-be robber pinned down while Jim had entered the store from the rear in order to take him from behind, except that the cashier had set off an alarm. According to Joel, Jim had frozen at the sound, long enough for the robber to take a shot at him. Joel had then taken the robber down with a shot to the leg, and once he had restrained the man, he had anxiously checked Jim out. Thankfully, the bullet had only taken a deep gouge out of Jim’s shoulder, although it had necessitated stitches, so he was presently in the ER at Cascade General getting treated. 

“But it could have been so much worse!” Megan continued, the worry uppermost in her tone. “Joel said it was as if Jim couldn’t see the perp move, and just stood there like a statue. He could have been killed!” 

“Oh, goddess,” Blair breathed, almost to himself. “He zoned! Oh, shit! He’s losing control of the senses again. Oh, Jim!” 

Frowning at his odd comments, Megan snapped, “I don’t know what you’re on about, Sandy, but you have to come and see him! He needs you!” and was astounded when Blair stared at her for a moment before shaking his head in fearful denial. 

“Oh, no, Megs! I can’t! You don’t understand! I can’t see him again. It’s too dangerous for him.” 

Disbelief now written all over her face, Megan snapped, “What the hell are you talking about, Sandy? Why can’t you see him? And what did you mean by ‘zone’? What’s wrong with Jimbo then? Is he sick?” 

And Blair knew he had to tell her everything. It was the only thing he could think of to get Jim the help he needed, whether the sentinel wanted it or not. Reaching behind him to access his overflowing bookcase, he pulled out his most treasured tome. Placing it on the desk in front of him, he beckoned Megan over to his side as he opened it for her perusal. 

“This is my copy of ‘The Sentinels of Paraguay’. It was written back in the nineteenth century by Sir Richard Burton – the explorer, not the actor,” he began with a weary smile. “I need to tell you about sentinels and their guides….”  


\---------------------------------  


Some while later, Megan sat back, a thoughtful expression on her face. Looking up to meet Blair’s anxious gaze, she murmured, “Well, I think that explains why I thought Jimbo was psychic. All his senses are enhanced, then? And you’re asking me to ‘ground’ him and back him up so he doesn’t freeze? Like you used to do?” 

At Blair’s eager nod of assent, she frowned again. “I don’t know, Sandy. That’s one hell of a tall order. I mean, you always made everything between you two look so easy. Jimbo might not even accept me as his – what did you call it? – Guide? And why can’t anyone else know?” 

Blair’s expression closed up again as he met her questioning gaze. “Because Jim doesn’t want it made public, Megs. He’s afraid of being seen as some sort of freak even though I keep telling him what an incredible gift he has. And let’s face it; we don’t want to let the bad guys in on the secret anyway. How soon would it be before someone realised they could incapacitate the ‘super cop’ with a dog whistle? No, it has to be kept between us. Me, Jim, Simon and now you.” 

“OK, say I accept what you’re saying. Why can’t you keep doing what you’ve been doing? Was your quarrel so bad that you’re prepared to trust someone like me with your sentinel? What’s so dangerous about you?” 

And Blair knew he’d have to tell her that also. And he had no idea as to how she’d take it. But it had to be done. Irreconcilable differences be damned. 

Several minutes later, he met her thoughtful gaze head on even though he was expecting her to laugh out loud at his explanation. But to her credit, Megan did no such thing. When she really looked at her friend, all she saw was a young man; earnest but shy, cowed and already expecting to be slapped down for his presumption, but resolute nonetheless; eternally hopeful that someone, somewhere would understand him. 

And understand him she did, so was quick to tell him so. “OK, Sandy. I see. I mean, really see. I can’t in all honesty say that I truly understand your beliefs or condone your actions because of them, but hell, I’ve seen and experienced too much spiritual stuff in our aboriginal people back home to write you off as some sort of self-serving fruitcake. If you really believe that you’re endangering Jim by your presence, then who am I to deny it? 

“But I truly hope that there’s some other way. I believe that you two belong together whatever your dreams have told you, and I intend to stand by you both until you can work it out. If it’s of any comfort to you, Sandy, then no one I know deserves to achieve their goal like you do. And I truly hope that by achieving it, you and Jim can be a real pair again. Sentinel and Shaman Guide, as you were meant to be. I believe that the power is there. You just need to harness it.” 

For someone so enamoured of the power of language in general, for a long moment Blair couldn’t even begin to put his gratitude into words as he smiled in relief at his friend. Megan was going to help him. Help Jim. And that was all he needed to know right now. She was a true friend, and he would never forget it. 

However, before he could finally give voice to his appreciation, the door opened again, and this time it was to admit Professor Ambrose. The last person in the world that Blair was expecting. 

“Blair, dear boy, how are you?” Ambrose’s mellifluous tones and warm smile completely derailed Blair for a moment, such that all he could do was smile back happily in response. 

“Dr Ambrose! Joshua. What are you doing here?” Blair’s excitement and pleasure were plain to see as he almost glowed in the older man’s unexpected presence. For a moment, Megan was forgotten as the two men smiled at each other, so she took the opportunity of covertly studying the newcomer. And didn’t like what she saw. 

Still grinning fondly down into the younger man’s eager face, Ambrose replied to Blair’s question. “Why, Blair, Amelia and I are undertaking another whistle-stop lecture tour of several venues up and down the West Coast, so we thought we’d take the opportunity of staying for a couple of days in Cascade. We wanted to drop in on you to see how your studies were progressing. And to invite you to dinner tonight, if you’re free?” 

“Oh, man, yes, I’d love to!” was Blair’s enthusiastic response, then suddenly he remembered his manners. 

“Oh, sorry, Megs! This is Dr Ambrose. He’s one of Anthropology’s most revered experts in alternative spiritual practices and shamanism!” Blair almost gushed. “Joshua, this is Inspector Megan Conner from New South Wales. She’s a good friend, and is working at the PD on an exchange programme. We…er…were just discussing some police business,” he finished lamely. 

“Pleased to meet you, Inspector Conner,” Ambrose murmured smoothly, turning to offer her his hand. But although he was still smiling warmly, she easily caught the quick flash of something not quite right in those inquisitive brown eyes, and as she shook his hand, she knew with hackle-raising certainty that this man was evil. And apparently he had Sandy completely in his thrall. 

Forcing herself to smile back, her reply was equally insincere, but she needed to make herself scarce. “G’day, Dr Ambrose. Pleased to meet you too. But if you’ll both excuse me, I have to get on. See you soon, Sandy?” 

Receiving a nod of assent and a cheerful smile from Blair before he turned his full attention back to Ambrose, she left the room as quickly as possible, already forgotten by both men as she hurried back to her car. This was bad. She knew it in her bones. If Jimbo was vulnerable because of his senses, then it would appear that Blair was equally so from a spiritual aspect. She was absolutely convinced that Blair had to be weaned off the sinister professor’s influence, but she didn’t know how to go about it. She needed help, and the first person she needed to see was Jimbo.  


\------------------------------  


**Meanwhile, at the loft:**  


“Jim, man, are you going to be OK? You look much worse all of a sudden. Is there anything I can do?” Joel’s anxious enquiry cut through the fog of pain that seemed to enshroud the whole of Jim’s body where he sat slumped on the sofa, head leaning back against the cushions as he tried to pull himself together. Jim’s initial desire was to snap irritably at the older man, but he curbed his tongue with an effort, and cautiously rolled his head enough to meet Joel’s worried gaze. 

“Yeah, Joel,” he finally managed to answer in a more reasonable tone. “I’ll be OK in a while. Felt a bit nauseous for a moment. Just need to rest a bit, is all. Don’t worry.” 

“Easy for you to say, Jim, but you can’t see yourself!” Joel replied, plainly unconvinced. “Is there something I can get for you? Something Blair would have done?” 

And suddenly Jim could hear his erstwhile partner’s soothing voice in his head. _“Dial it down, Jim. Come on, man, you can do it. Just imagine that pain dial and turn it down. But not off altogether, Jim, man. Your body needs to heal, and it won’t if you overdo it because you feel no pain.”_

Automatically obeying the remembered instructions, Jim was finally able to wrestle the pain down to tolerable levels, and smiled wanly over at Joel, who was still hovering nearby. 

“It’s OK, Joel, really. I’m fine now. It was just a scratch anyway,” he added with a wry grin. “Nothing to worry about!” 

Although relieved, Joel still wasn’t prepared to be blasé about the injury, or the manner in which it was received. 

“That’s all well and good, Jim, and I’m glad you’re feeling better now. But what happened, man? How could you not see Radcliffe take aim at you? You could have been killed, man!” 

Although he knew his colleague deserved an explanation, Jim was at a loss as to how he should answer. He couldn’t tell Joel about how he had zoned on the noise of the alarm because he had had his hearing wide open at the time. He should have known better than to try and use the damned senses anyway without his guide’s backup, and now he also missed Blair’s talent for obfuscation. 

Basically, he just missed Blair, but he wasn’t going to admit that either to himself or to Joel. 

“I can’t explain it, Joel. I’m sorry though. Because it could have gotten you hurt or killed too. Having said that, I think I need to see Simon as soon as possible. I could be looking at desk duty at the very least,” and his voice tailed off morosely as the prospect of early retirement on medical grounds reared its ugly head. 

Joel was immediately supportive, even though deep down he thought Jim might be right on the nail. “It might not come to that surely, Jim! Perhaps it was like a petit mal seizure? Have the doctors ever mentioned the possibility of epilepsy to you?” 

Jim simply had to smile sadly at the older man’s attempt to offer comfort and hope. Joel was a good man, and Jim appreciated his unstinting friendship and optimism. 

“No, Joel. Nothing like that--” but he was prevented from continuing as the door flew open to admit a harried-looking Megan, who burst in on them without even knocking. 

“Jimbo! You OK? You look bloody awful, mate. But I know why. I’ve just seen Blair and we have to do something!” 

Momentarily confused by her apparently unconnected comments, Jim bridled for a moment, frowning in irritation at the interruption. 

“And hello to you too, Conner,” he growled. “And yes, I’ll be fine, and what the hell do you think you’re doing going to talk to Sandburg behind my back? And what the hell do you mean, ‘we have to do something’? About what?” 

Taking a deep, calming breath, Megan forced herself to slow down. Meeting Jim’s direct and irate glare full on, she dropped her bombshell. 

“I know everything, Jimbo. Blair told me. And I also know why he’s not here right now. And I have to tell you that it’s not all about you, Jimbo, so don’t get your panties in a bunch thinking he’s betrayed your trust for no good reason. I made him tell me because I think he’s in just as much trouble, if not more so. Want to hear what I have to say?” 

Seeing the totally shell-shocked expression on Jim’s face as the younger man stared wordlessly into Megan’s tense and expectant gaze, Joel coughed quietly before saying, “You need me to go, Jim? Because I won’t be offended if you need to keep whatever this is between you. But if I can help, then I will. Whatever you need, Jim.” 

And Jim suddenly knew what he had to do. Of all of his colleagues, Joel was entitled to know what was going on with him, and with Blair also. He knew the older man missed the grad student very much, and had been desperately unhappy when Blair stopped coming to the PD. Sighing heavily, he looked away for a moment to give himself time to marshal his thoughts, then turned back to meet both Joel’s and Megan’s eyes with grim determination. 

“It’s OK, Joel. I know you can keep a secret, and I hope Megan can too. I just want to say that this has to stay between us for now. For my sake, and possibly for Blair’s also. Only Simon has known everything about me and Sandburg up until now, but I realise that has to change. I’ll give you a quick run-down on what’s going on with me, although Blair would be able to do it better, for sure. 

“And then Megs can tell us what she thinks she knows!” and he grinned ruefully at them as they both took a seat, their attention riveted on him as he began.  


\----------------------------------  


A short while later Jim wound up his succinct explanation, illustrated by a few simple demonstrations, and sat back, waiting with a sinking heart for Joel’s reactions. However, far from disbelief or disgust, Joel’s genial features wore nothing but acceptance, understanding and visible admiration. Meeting Jim’s wary gaze with a gentle smile, the older man reached over to pat Jim’s knee as he spoke. 

“We always knew you had an edge, Jim, and that Blair had something to do with it, but I have to say that I am proud to know you, son. And very glad that you trust me enough to tell me your secret. It is a gift indeed, Jim, but I understand why you wouldn’t want it spread far and wide. And I can see that it certainly has its drawbacks, just like I witnessed today. And that makes me in awe of Blair also. You two always make everything look so smooth. So easy. No wonder you’re lost without him. 

“So what must we do to get him back? I mean, you do _want_ him back, don’t you?” and he fixed Jim with an earnest look. 

For a moment, Jim wanted to deny it. To tell both his colleagues that it was over, and that he wanted nothing more to do with Blair, ever. But that was no longer true, if indeed it ever had been. And if there was a good reason behind Sandburg’s recent behaviour, then the least he could do was to investigate, for both their sakes. Perhaps it had never been Sandburg’s fault after all? 

Scrubbing at his face with the hand on his uninjured side, Jim took another moment before meeting Joel’s eyes again. 

“I honestly don’t know, Joel. I mean, it really hurt when he walked out on me. But maybe I didn’t give him a real chance to explain. Just waded in in my own inimitable fashion and tried to interrogate him when he was already down. But perhaps you can throw some light on it, Megan?” 

“Be glad to, Jimbo,” Megan replied immediately. “First off, he explained to me what you’ve just told Joel about all the sensory stuff. But when I asked him why he wasn’t still with you, he hedged at first, saying that he wasn’t your true guide, and that it wasn’t safe for you to be near him anymore. And he told me what I should do to back you up if you needed it,” she added defiantly, unsurprised when Jim snarled in irritation. 

“In your dreams, Conner!” he snapped ungraciously. “If I can’t have Blair, then I certainly don’t want your tender touches! I’d rather lose the senses altogether!” However, a moment later he apologised, shamed by the reproach he could see clearly on both their faces. “Sorry, Megs. That was uncalled for, I know. It’s just that I miss him, you see, and not knowing exactly what happened between us is driving me nuts!” 

“One thing I know for sure, Jimbo,” Megan replied in a much more sympathetic and conciliatory tone. “He loves you very much. Is _in love_ with you, only is too frightened to admit it. He didn’t exactly come out and say so, but I could tell, just like pretty much everyone in the bullpen could. Hell, most of us thought you two were already an item!” 

The shock on Jim’s face was completely unaffected, as his mouth dropped open in surprise. “What? He’s what..?” He finally managed to utter in a strangled tone. “Shit! I never knew! He never said anything. No wonder he was getting so antsy about me touching him. He must have been afraid that I’d figure out that he was sexually attracted to me and throw him out. 

“And I pretty much did that anyway,” he added mournfully. 

“The kicker is,” he continued defiantly, looking his companions in the eye, “I’m not the straight-as-an-arrow macho man he thinks I am. I’ve always had an eye for an attractive person, be they male or female, and I thought he was beautiful the first time I saw him. But he always seemed to have such a parade of women following him all the time. How was I to know that they were mostly window-dressing, dammit? Why did we never _talk_ to each other?” 

“Well, now you know, Jim,” Joel added gently, his expression understanding and completely non-judgemental. “And for the record, neither of us is in the least bit perturbed by your admission. But what else is behind Blair’s reticence, Megs? It can’t just be a matter of non-communication and unrequited love. There has to be more.” 

“You’re so right, Joel,” Megan sighed. “I’m sorry, Jim, but there is a lot more to it than that. See, Sandy said he had been having dreams. I mean, really bad dreams about you dying because of him. Because he wasn’t doing his job properly. And he’s absolutely convinced that staying with you was putting you in danger. But he felt he couldn’t tell you because you wouldn’t believe him. Because you told him that he wasn’t a shaman, and never would be. And that you hate the spiritual stuff. 

“So he’s keeping his distance until he can either prove to you that he can protect you and work with you, or you find another guide who you can work with. He’s desperate to learn everything he can about shamanism, but as I see it, that’s also what makes him vulnerable. To someone who can manipulate him. Someone like Dr Ambrose.” 

“Ambrose?” Jim murmured, a perplexed look colouring his patrician features. “He was the guy Blair took me to see at that conference at Rainier, before all this trouble started. But what could he have to do with anything? As far as I know, Blair never actually met him.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Jimbo,” Megan replied sadly. “I think they know each other only too well. Ambrose dropped in unexpectedly on Sandy while I was there. Seems he’s touring the area, so thought he’s check in. And Sandy was overjoyed to see him. I think they’re having dinner together tonight. 

“And I’ll tell you this for nothing. That man is evil, Jimbo. No doubt about it in my opinion. And I’m not being fanciful either, mates. I think he’s gotten his claws into Sandy, and he’s not letting go. What are we going to do?” 

Sitting up straighter in his seat, Jim regarded her fixedly for a while as he tried to absorb her information and also consider the possible consequences, none of which looked promising. 

Finally he spoke, and his tone was grim and resolute as he said, “I don’t know about you two, but the first thing I’m going to do is go back to the PD right now. I need to run a check on our Dr Ambrose, and if I don’t like what I find out, I’m going to confront Blair. I need to know just what he thinks he’s doing associating with someone like that.” 

“That’s all well and good, Jim,” said Joel cautiously, “But don’t frighten Blair off again. You need to go gentle with him because he’s sure to be skittish. Apparently he already thinks he’s let you down.” 

“I know, Joel and you’re right,” Jim replied somewhat reluctantly. “But whatever happens, I won’t have him hurt. Not by me, or by any scheming professor if I can prevent it. I’ve hurt him enough already.” 

“Fair enough, Jimbo,” Megan declared with a brisk nod. “Now, shall we get back to the PD?” And they rose as one; their determination clear in their expressions as they made for the door.  


\----------------------------  


**Part 2: The Shaman Wakes:**  


**That night, at Dr Ambrose’s rented apartment:**  


“Blair, darling! How wonderful to see you again!” Amelia Constantine’s voice was a seductive purr as the elegant Doctor slipped an arm around the young man’s waist to usher him into their luxurious rented apartment. Smiling down into his upturned face as she relieved him of the flowers and wine he had brought with him, she murmured graciously, “How very kind, darling. You’re looking well. Come on into the kitchen, and we’ll go and annoy Joshua! He’s quite the chef, but tends to get rather excitable when he’s creating one of his culinary masterpieces!” 

Blushing slightly under her warm regard, Blair allowed himself to be directed towards an open doorway, through which he could see glimpses of his host moving backwards and forwards around what looked to be a well-appointed kitchen. 

“It’s wonderful to see you also, Amelia,” he replied a little bashfully. “I didn’t expect you both to be back in Cascade so soon. But I’m glad you are!” he added ingenuously, unintentionally causing her to smile appreciatively at the attractive vision beside her. _Oh yes,_ she thought. _He really is as pretty as I remember. What a wonderful combination of talent Joshua has discovered to enhance our little group. Looks, brains and raw power. Such a find! And so very innocent._

Reaching the kitchen, she urged Blair to precede her as she called out, “Look who’s here, Joshua! Our guest has arrived. And bearing gifts too. Shall we have a small aperitif, my dear?” 

Turning to face them, Joshua’s eyes lit up when he saw Blair. “Oh, I think that’s a very good idea, Amelia. Is that all right with you, dear boy? So glad you could make it tonight. We have so much to talk about.” 

“Um, yes, that would be nice. Thank you.” Blair felt almost gauche in the presence of such a casually refined couple who were also eminent academics, and chided himself for his awkwardness. _Way to go, Sandburg. Behave like a dweeb, why don’t you? What must they think?_

Distracted by the glass Amelia held out to him, Blair failed to notice the swift, speculative glance Joshua sent in his direction. For a second, the brown eyes darkened with evil intent, only to change instantly to sparkling bonhomie when Blair turned back to face him, his glass raised to offer a toast. 

“To a successful tour!” he said with a beaming smile for his hosts. “And to our continuing friendship,” he added, a little more diffidently, inordinately pleased when both Joshua and Amelia smiled back warmly. 

Clinking their glasses, they all took a good sip, and Blair realised that it was some sort of sherry, but with a bit of an aftertaste. He wasn’t a lover of sherry, but when he saw that Amelia and Joshua were drinking theirs down with apparent appreciation, he decided to be polite and follow suit. 

And thereafter, he remembered nothing more.  


\-----------------------------------  


That night it was Jim who dreamed, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. With Simon’s somewhat reluctant blessing, he had spent most of the day, as had Joel and Megan, running down as many sources of information as he could think of on Drs Ambrose and Constantine, only to come up with precisely nothing. They didn’t have so much as a parking ticket between them, and were apparently just what they claimed to be. Ambrose was simply a well-regarded and well-travelled professor of the esoteric, and if he did actually practice what he preached in any way, no one was admitting it. Likewise with Amelia Constantine. If she was heading up some Black Magic coven or cult somewhere in New Orleans, it was under the radar. Dispirited and frustrated, the three friends finally decided to call it a day and resume their search in the morning. 

But as Jim declared when Joel dropped him off at the loft, he was determined to confront Blair as soon as possible and explain what he knew or suspected. And if he had to grovel in apology for the way he had treated his guide, he would do it. 

Wishing him goodnight, Joel left him to his own devices, and Jim wearily took himself off to bed for an early night. He was still feeling generally stiff and sore, and his shoulder wound was throbbing, so he carefully dialled everything down just enough to begin to relax into welcome sleep. 

And woke up to find himself running swiftly through a blue-tinted jungle in the form of his animal spirit, the black jaguar. 

_Well, hell,_ he thought as he ran. _I might’ve guessed that something like this would happen if Blair’s gotten himself mixed up in spiritual crap. I suppose there’s nothing for it but to see where this leads me._

He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea, because this was the aspect of the whole sentinel phenomenon that he hated the most. But for Blair’s sake he would see it through. These visions always had a purpose, even if he hated to admit it. It was just a shame that Blair wasn’t here with him to interpret it, because he was so much more open to these things than was Jim. Then again, he wouldn’t be having it if Blair wasn’t in danger, so he simply gritted his feline jaws and continued to run, instinctively knowing which path to take. 

After covering what seemed to be many miles, Jim-as-jaguar came to an abrupt halt on the bank of a wide and swiftly flowing river. No way did his feline self want to even attempt to cross, but he roared in impotent fury at the sight that met his eyes on the opposite bank. 

A beautiful silver timber wolf with Blair’s blue eyes gazed mournfully over at him, its lupine expression as beseeching as it could get. For a moment it looked as if the wolf was going to attempt to cross the river, but just then a pair of large and angry jackals burst out of the undergrowth behind it, and began to attack it from both sides, snapping and biting savagely until the creature was forced to submit, its howls and whimpers of pain and distress pitiful to hear. And as Jim’s jaguar hissed and spat in frustration, they herded the battered animal back into the jungle, but not before it cast one last longing look over at Jim. 

Suddenly the scene changed, and Jim found himself in a jungle clearing, but this time in his human form. He noted incidentally that he was dressed as he usually was during these visions, in vest, camo pants and bandana, his compound bow slung across his shoulders. And this time he was overjoyed to see his old friend and mentor Incacha materialise before him, a gentle smile gracing the sweet face as the deceased shaman studied him intently. 

“Greetings, Enqueri,” Incacha murmured, reaching out to place his hands on Jim’s shoulders. “It is good to see you, Sentinel, but sadly not in these circumstances. Why did you leave your Guide alone and vulnerable, Enqueri? He is in great danger, and it will be up to you to put matters right. Are you prepared to do so, for both your sakes?” 

Jim would have loved to deny having done any such thing, but he knew that Incacha had the right of it. He had allowed his own hurt feelings and anger to cloud his judgement where Blair was concerned, and certainly hadn’t tried hard enough to prevent the troubled young man from leaving. And when he did leave, Jim knew that he should have swallowed his pride and gone after him immediately rather than wallow in his own self-pity. So he nodded glumly as he answered. 

“You’re right, Incacha. I should have offered comfort and support rather than cynicism and disbelief. And perhaps I should have listened to him when he told me he wanted to be a shaman. Not that I think he is, or even could be. But seeking after the Way has placed him in danger after all.” 

For moment, Incacha’s face took on an angry frown as he shook Jim’s shoulders to emphasise his next statement. “Why would you not believe he is a shaman, Enqueri? Did I not pass on the Way of the Shaman to him as I left the earthly plane? I did not do so on a whim, Enqueri. I recognised the raw potential within your Guide. But he will struggle to unleash it without your support, Sentinel. Those who influence him now are trying to turn him to their own purposes, none of which are good. The man in particular is powerful in his own right, but he desires so much more. He is truly evil, and his skills lie in being able to manipulate his victims’ thoughts and minds, bending them to his will. If he is successful in harnessing your Guide’s power to his, he will be unstoppable. 

“But if you truly want to save the young wolf from their clutches, you will have to accept him for what he is. And you must complete the bond. Together you are powerful, but apart, you are both vulnerable. Do not let the young shaman down, Enqueri. Even now he is slipping away from you.” 

Before Jim could utter a word in response, the scene shimmered and disappeared, leaving him alone in his bedroom again and staring at the skylight above his head. 

OK. So now he knew what he had to do. He might still be a little sceptical, but he knew better than to ignore his old friend’s words of wisdom and warning. In the morning he was going to seek Blair out, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

They were going to talk.  


\----------------------------------  


**Following morning, Blair’s office, Hargrove Hall, Rainier University:**  


It was a rather distracted Blair who made his way down to his office the next morning. He knew he had a busy day ahead of him, with another exam to proctor, two lectures and a meeting with his diss committee. And he really should make up the office hours he had ducked out of a couple of times recently, not that he had too many panicky students needing his advice this time around. For once even his Anthro 101 class was generally filled with freshmen actually eager to learn rather than just earn easy credits – as if he’d allow that anyway – and it never occurred to him that it was because he was a good and popular teacher. 

However, his mind wasn’t exactly on the day ahead right now. Rather he was pondering last night’s dinner with Joshua and Amelia. For sure he’d enjoyed himself, although he couldn’t actually remember getting home. He had treated himself to a taxi there, so it figured that he must have returned home by the same means. He snickered inwardly at the thought, accepting the fact that he must have drunk rather too much. He knew he was a bit of a lightweight where alcohol was concerned, but as long as he hadn’t made a fool of himself, he hoped that it wouldn’t have any unpleasant consequences. After all, Joshua had made a point of calling him earlier that morning to say how much he and Amelia had enjoyed Blair’s company, and to suggest they sort out a convenient date before they returned to New Orleans to meet up again to discuss possible future study and employment opportunities. And that was something to which he intended to give plenty of thought. Sobering abruptly, a troubled frown wrinkled his brow as he was once again forced to consider his present position. He still felt the need to be available to his sentinel if required. It was as natural to him as breathing now even if said sentinel didn’t appear to appreciate it. But he was also miserably certain that Jim the cop and friend no longer wanted to have anything to do with him, especially after their falling out. 

And he still felt that he was a potential danger to the man as long as he was untried and untrained as a true shaman. Those awful dreams might have ceased, but the message had been clear. But if Joshua and Amelia really could teach him, then maybe, just maybe…? 

His wandering thoughts were disrupted when Janice, one of the departmental secretaries, called out to him as he passed the open door to the photocopying room. 

“Hi, Blair! You have a visitor, dear. I let him into your office because I thought you wouldn’t mind…” and that’s as far as she got before Blair opened the door. To see Jim sitting there, as large as life and smiling a little bashfully up at him. 

Confused and flustered, Blair gaped wordlessly at him for a long moment before dredging up a wary greeting. “Um, Jim, man. What are you doing here? Um, is there anything wrong? Is your injury still bothering you? What do you need?” 

And Jim couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. How typical of Blair to assume Jim would only visit if he needed something from the young man. But then again, why wouldn’t he? Jim suddenly realised that he had taken Blair for granted for so long now, what else was the grad student to think? He was going to have his work cut out if he was to convince Blair that he was here to salvage their partnership, and also for Blair’s own sake. It would be a first, for sure. 

“Hey, Chief. Just wanted to see how you were doing, kiddo. It’s been a few weeks now, and I miss you. Er…you’re looking well?” Actually, he was lying, because Blair wasn’t looking that good at all, especially to sentinel sight. He was too pale, and his eyes were shadowed. He had lost weight he could ill afford to lose, and a general aura of fatigue seemed to cling to him. And now Jim was certain he could pick up the miniscule trace evidence of chemicals seeping from the young man’s pores, and the cop in him went on high alert. Blair might have tried the occasional spliff as a young student, but he had always shied away from taking any sort of serious drugs, recreational or otherwise. Even an aspirin was treated with suspicion. Blair considered his body to be a temple and not something to be poisoned with unnecessary chemicals or junk food. So why did he smell as if he had, and recently too? There was only one explanation as far as Jim was concerned, and that was that it had been administered to Blair unawares. And that could only be by that bastard Ambrose for his own purposes. 

But now wasn’t the time to go on the attack, even if that was his first instinct. He didn’t need to alienate Blair before they even started their discussion. Just for once, he was going to have to try for a tactful approach, and that wasn’t going to be easy for him. 

“Actually, Chief,” he began, somewhat diffidently, “I came to apologise. I was so out of order when we argued. I should’ve listened rather than go on the attack like that. Like a cop!” he added, self-deprecatingly. “And a real friend would have asked you days previously what was the matter with you, instead of avoiding the issue, hoping you’d just get over whatever it was that was bothering you. 

“But I know everything now, Chief, and we need to talk. We need to clear the air.” 

“Oh, goddess!” Blair breathed, horrified. “She told you, didn’t she? Megs told you everything even though I said it in confidence! I only wanted her to understand so she could help you, I swear!” 

“Yes, she told me, Chief. And I’m glad she did, since it was only because she wants to help us both. But she’s not the only reason I’m here, Blair. Because she’s not my only source of information. Incacha explained everything to me also in a dream vision last night, and he wasn’t happy with me. He told me in no uncertain terms that he would never have passed the Way of the Shaman to you if he hadn’t considered you to be worthy, or didn’t believe that you possessed the innate capability. And he told me that I was an ungrateful fool for belittling you. 

“He also warned me about your new friends, Chief. They aren’t what they appear to be, and you could well be in danger. Come on back to the loft, Blair, and let’s work on this. Let’s try and heal the rift between us.” 

Up until that point, Blair had been listening with more than a little incredulity, but also with growing warmth at the possibility of making up. But as soon as Jim criticised his friends, he bridled instinctively. What could Jim know about Joshua and Amelia, and how they had been there when he needed some support and comfort? Support and comfort that should have come from his sentinel? 

It was all well and good that Jim had had his eyes opened to the fact that Incacha had acted in good faith and conviction when he had chosen Blair as Jim’s shaman guide, but that didn’t give him the right to tell Blair who he should or should not befriend. 

“What do you mean, ‘not what they appear to be’? How dare you accuse two such kind and helpful people of trying to hurt me? I’ll have you know that they were there for me when I was feeling down, and that they’ve offered me alternative employment in New Orleans once my diss is done. Which will be any time now. And right now I’m thinking that I might take them up on it!” 

Blair’s anger, usually so slow to ignite, had grown swiftly as he spoke, until the last words were almost shouted. But it dissipated almost as quickly as it had arisen, and the smaller man seemed to slump in defeat as he turned his back on Jim, staring sightlessly out of the window while he tried to regain some measure of equilibrium. He was so confused now. And desperately tired; his fatigue as much mental as physical. He barely noticed when Jim got to his feet and moved to stand behind him until the man’s quiet words fell on unwilling ears. 

“It’s OK, Chief. I know you must be angry with me, but I swear it’s true. I’ll go now, but this isn’t over, kiddo. I intend to help you whether you like it or not. Just tell me this, Chief. What did you have for dinner last night at Ambrose’s place? And what did you talk about? Do you remember? And how did you get home?” 

He knew his instincts had been correct when Blair stiffened angrily again, apparently about to offer a heated response when a lost and confused expression crossed his mobile features. He couldn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He had no idea about what had happened last night after all. But Jim also knew that now wasn’t the time to try and press his advantage. Blair had a lot of new and unwelcome information that he needed to process, and process alone. Reaching out, he simply squeezed the young man’s shoulder gently as he murmured, “I’ll go now, Chief. Give you some space, OK? But I’ll be back, Blair. I promise.” 

And with that he quietly left the room, sentinel senses easily picking up the hitches in Blair’s breathing and the faint tang of saline as his guide tried not to cry. It was all he could do not to hurry back and take Blair into his arms, but he instinctively knew that this wasn’t the time. 

Soon, though. Very soon.  


\-----------------------------------  


It was a deeply troubled Blair who slumped down onto his desk chair a few minutes after Jim had left. Part of him wanted to scream and rail at the unfairness of Jim’s warning concerning his friends. Hell, wasn’t it he, Blair, who was supposed to be the ‘people person’? The one who could empathise with victims of crime and accidents? The one to whom Jim always handed over the awkward, emotional cases? Surely there was no way he would allow himself to be manipulated like some air-headed puppet? No. Joshua and Amelia were just friends. Good, helpful friends. That’s all. 

But then again, a sneaky inner voice murmured, what if they _had_ used some other means to make him more susceptible? Alcohol, maybe? Or drugs? And for the life of him he really couldn’t remember what Joshua had cooked. Or what had transpired after that initial aperitif. All he could come up with was a general impression of pleasure and satisfaction. Which could have been planted easily enough in his brain under the right conditions. 

No. He refused to believe it. Not without proof. And if it turned out that Jim’s claims were false, then he’d take them up on their offer, and go to New Orleans. However, all of a sudden the prospect seemed to lose its previous charm, and looked instead like a poor consolation prize. 

As his thoughts continued to tumble around in his brain, it never occurred to him that it was any more than simple coincidence when a tap on the door announced the arrival of Joshua Ambrose himself. 

As he peered around the door, Ambrose’s cheerful expression changed to one of concern as he stepped over the threshold and approached Blair’s desk. “My dear boy, what on earth is the matter? Do you not feel well?” His enquiry seemed genuine enough, as did his demeanour, so Blair met his quizzical gaze with a wan smile. 

“I’m fine, Joshua, honestly. Um, it’s just that I had a rather difficult conversation with a friend from the PD. At least, I _think_ he’s still my friend,” he added, almost _sotto voce._

“Ah! The estimable Detective Ellison!” Ambrose murmured knowingly. “Dear me, Blair. I do hope you haven’t quarrelled with your sentinel!” 

Shocked to the core, Blair gawped at him for a moment. “Wh…what do you mean, _my sentinel?_ I…I’m sure I’ve never mentioned him before. I…I mean, I wouldn’t break his confidence like that!” 

“Oh dear boy, don’t you recall?” Ambrose replied in _faux_ sympathy. “You told us last night, Blair. Explained why you changed your dissertation topic because your sentinel had withdrawn his permission! But never fear, my boy. We would never pass on information given to us in confidence. It was simply that you needed to unload, and we were happy to provide sympathetic ears. Don’t take on, dear boy. No harm done!” 

It was obvious to Ambrose that Blair was still very upset, and he schooled his expression into something suitably understanding. But inside he was rubbing his hands in glee. He truly believed that he had successfully planted the seeds of doubt in the young man’s mind; enough for him to question his ex-partner’s integrity as well as consider his own gullibility. It would only take a little more subliminal persuasion to entrap him completely. That and another dose or two of Amelia’s special potion. And then he would be theirs for the taking. It was a heady thought, but he was careful not to let it show on his face. 

Time to set up the next stage in their seduction. 

“I know you have a very busy timetable for today, dear boy. You told us last night when you were leaving. But how about meeting us for a late lunch on Thursday? Perhaps at that nice little Thai restaurant you told us you were so fond of? It’ll be our last opportunity to see you before we fly back to New Orleans. And I promise you, whatever decision you come to as regards our offer, we would still like to see you, dear boy. As friends. How about it?” 

And Blair could think of no good reason to refuse. Indeed, a little more of their charming company sounded like a plan right now, and after all, what harm could come to him if they were meeting in a public place? So his smile was much warmer and happier when he answered. 

“Sure, Joshua. I’d like that. Very much.”  


\---------------------------------  


**Meanwhile, close by:**  


Sitting in his truck in a busy student parking lot not too distant from Hargrove Hall, Jim ground his teeth in anger as he listened in to his guide’s conversation. He had been about to drive away when he had spotted Ambrose’s rental car pull into one of the staff parking bays next to Blair’s old Volvo, and he had no qualms about eavesdropping on whatever the man had to say to his friend. Blair was particularly vulnerable right now, and if Jim thought he needed to intervene in person then he would do so. But he managed to contain the impulse, not wishing to jeopardise his intended plan of action. He had wanted to call in on Blair to further his case before Blair met up with Ambrose and Constantine again, and it looked like he was in luck if he had until Thursday to make his move. 

Because by then he intended that Blair would be his once again, but this time for good. And between them and their colleagues and friends in Major Crimes, they would be able to take care of Blair’s would-be seducers once and for all. 

He waited for a while longer until Ambrose had driven off again before pulling out of the lot. He was bound and determined to head back to the PD to confer with Joel and Megan and update them on the latest events, certain that for once time was on their side. _Don’t worry, Chief. Not long now._

\-----------------------------------------  


**Shortly afterwards, Captain Banks’ office, MCU:**  


“I don’t know, Jim. It sounds very vague to me. I mean, you know what I think about all this so-called spiritual/occult crap. If I can’t see it or arrest it, I don’t want to believe it. And I always thought you were of the same opinion, despite the sentinel stuff.” Simon leaned back against his desk, regarding all three of his team presently seated in front of him, but addressing his comment to Jim in particular. 

“I know, Captain. Simon. But I’ve had to learn to open my mind some since I met Blair, even if reluctantly. The kid’s had his work cut out to get me to accept some of his weird-ass theories and god knows that I still can’t get my mind around a lot of it. But until this misunderstanding, crisis of confidence, call it what you will, he’s never let me down, sir, as you know. Even if he’s irritating the shit out of you, you have to admit that.” 

Simon sighed in resignation as he considered his subordinate and friend’s words. It was true. Despite his initial reluctance, he had grown fond of the bouncy, excitable Sandburg, unable to deny the evidence of his own eyes. Jim’s performance was incredibly enhanced when partnered with his grad student guide, and it had to be said that his personality benefited also. So if Jim, Joel and Megan all claimed that said guide was in danger from some other-worldly threat, then he supposed he should give them some credence. But then again? 

“OK, look, I understand a certain amount of this…this…spook theory. You think that this visiting professor has somehow brainwashed Sandburg into thinking he’s putting you in danger by staying with you. Fine. I can go with that. I mean, it’s pretty certain that some of our own more clandestine agencies have played around with techniques involving mind-altering drugs and conditioning. Could be that this professor’s been trained in those techniques and is using them to his own end. But I draw the line at spirit-plane intervention, OK? That’s way off my credibility tolerance scale, people. 

“Having said that, I won’t try to prevent you from trying to get the kid back on the side of the righteous as long as no one on my team gets hurt. Especially Sandburg. So. What’s your plan?” 

Relaxing back into his seat now he had received his captain’s conditional agreement, Jim offered him a small smile as he outlined the very simple plan they’d come up with. 

“It’s nothing too dramatic, Simon. Just a bit of obfuscation on our part. Which in all fairness shouldn’t surprise or upset Blair too much really, seeing as he’s such a master of the art. We’re just going to play on his good nature and desire to help. For his own good, you understand….”  


\---------------------------------  


**Later that afternoon, Blair’s office, Hargrove Hall:**  


It had been a long and tiring day, and Blair was pretty much near the limits of his patience and energy. After the shock of Jim’s unexpected visit and troubling revelations, through Joshua’s gentler but still unsettling commiserations and subsequent lunch invitation he had already been distracted, so it had been nothing short of an endurance test to get through the rest of the day’s lectures and classes relatively intact. The only high point had been the meeting with his diss committee. To a man - and woman - they had declared themselves satisfied with the draft document he had handed in, so much so that he had been told that all he had to do was tidy it up for final submission. And after that, it was just a case of defending it, and then the PhD was his. 

So why then wasn’t he jumping up and down with glee, looking forward with eager anticipation to achieving his greatest ambition? Because maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t quite such a shining goal after all. Sure, he wanted it. Hell, he deserved it; no matter that it was on a topic of lesser interest in Blair’s eyes. But without Jim; without his sentinel, it was just another degree. Far more than the academic accolades, he needed to be needed. He yearned for true and lasting friendship, and to be part of something special. Something like a real Sentinel and Guide partnership. But that was looking less and less likely despite Jim’s rather stilted attempt at an apology and reconciliation. From Blair’s point of view, the older man still seemed to regard him as a necessary nuisance, and furthermore, one who needed to be rescued every five minutes like some damsel in distress. How on earth could he ever envisage himself as an equal partner under those conditions? 

Sighing despondently, he pulled his backpack towards him, intending to lock up and go back to his lodgings, eschewing for once the compulsion to spend a few more hours working in the library. He needed to think. To meditate for a while and seek his centre. And the only place he could do that was in his small rented room. 

Suddenly, there was a peremptory knock on his door, followed by the abrupt entry of not only Megan, but Joel also. Both looked anxious, and Megan didn’t stand on ceremony as she burst out, “Sandy! You have to come! It’s Jim. We don’t know what to do, and he’s not responding! Please, mate, you have to come!” and she emphasised her plea by taking his arm, pulling urgently at him as he tried to snag his backpack with his free hand. 

Instantly alert, Blair didn’t hesitate. “Where is he, Megs? He wasn’t working alone, was he? Surely not! He’s still injured after all!” 

“No, mate, and a bloody good job too. No, he’s at the loft. Joel and I had to leave him there because there was nothing we could do. He needs you, Sandy!” 

Within minutes Blair found himself in the back of Joel’s sedan, chewing his lower lip anxiously as he watched the familiar landmarks pass by, impatient now to get to his suffering sentinel. All other thoughts and considerations were shoved aside for now as he concentrated on his number one priority. To do his job, and act like the guide he was meant to be. 

After what seemed like an interminable length of time to the increasingly worried young man, Joel pulled up outside 852 Prospect. Blair barely waited for the vehicle to come to a halt before he had the door open, and was sprinting for the building’s entrance. Exchanging a quick, conspiratorial glance, Megan and Joel followed him a little more sedately, noting that he had avoided the frequently unreliable elevator in favour of taking the stairs at a run. By the time they reached the third floor, Blair was practically hopping from foot to foot in impatience outside #307, no longer having a key to the apartment. 

“Come on, come _on!”_ he called out to them urgently. “Hurry up, Megs! I don’t have a key!” 

“Here you go, Sandy,” she replied as she used the spare key to unlock the door. “I think this one should be yours anyway!” 

Blair didn’t bother to respond as he was already pushing into the apartment, his eyes seeking out his sentinel. 

And there he was, sitting upright and unmoving on the sofa, apparently staring out of the balcony windows at something only a sentinel could see. As Blair moved forward, his hands already outstretched to offer the comfort of his grounding touch, Joel and Megan nodded to each other in silent agreement, and quietly stepped back into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind them. 

Their part of the plan was done. Now they just had to hope that Jim had been correct in his assumptions, and that the rest of his scheme would turn out as expected.  


\-----------------------------------  


Inside the loft, Blair knelt before Jim, his voice automatically assuming what Jim referred to as his ‘guide tone’ as he began to coax Jim to come out of his zone. Grasping Jim’s hands, he gently chafed the skin on their backs, while peering anxiously up into the sentinel’s faraway gaze, hoping for signs of returning comprehension. And was shaken to the core when he saw a fully awake and aware Jim smiling gently and a little bashfully back at him. 

“Wh…what? What gives, Jim? Were you _pretending_ to zone? For the goddess’ sake, _why?”_ Blair could barely stutter his questions in his profound astonishment and distress, pulling frantically away as he realised he had been played for a fool. “You _bastard!”_ he ground out, a look of pure fury darkening his attractive face. “How _could_ you? Wasn’t it enough to insult my friends this morning? To make me look like a gullible idiot? You have to frighten me as well? Shit, man. I hate you!” 

Leaping to his feet, he whirled about as if to leave the apartment only to have his shoulders seized in a firm, although not ungentle grip. 

Quickly turning the fuming young man around to face him, Jim held tightly to Blair’s upper arms as he met the burning glare directed at him. “Easy, Chief. Look, let me explain. I’m sorry about the deception, Blair, really, but I didn’t know how else to get you here so quickly. We have to talk, Chief, and we don’t have much time to clear the air between us. It’s for your own good, Blair. And for both our sakes, I promise you.” 

It appeared that he wasn’t getting through, as Blair didn’t look in the least impressed or appeased by his explanation. In fact, it looked as if the smaller man would like to take a swing at him, he was so incensed. So Jim did what came naturally, his instinct directing his actions. 

And he caught Blair’s beautiful mouth in a deep and demanding kiss. 

For a moment, Blair froze in shock, then in the next second he was trying desperately to free his arms so that he could pummel Jim’s back and sides with his fists. But Jim was having none of it, and held tighter, his senses revelling in the wonderful flavours and textures of his guide’s mouth. And suddenly, Blair wasn’t struggling anymore. Instead, his fists opened, and as Jim cautiously relaxed his grip, Blair slid his hands up the broad back to pull the taller man closer to him. The expressive fingers of one capable hand carded through Jim’s short brown hair, while those on the other hand stroked and rubbed the soft skin at Jim’s nape. 

For long moments, nothing else mattered until they came up for air, their eyes locked on one another in passionate desire. The few breathless words they exchanged were disjointed, but more than enough to convey their intentions. 

“Um, Chief, You OK?” 

“Oh yeah, man,” 

“Can I?” 

“You’d better!” 

“Sure?” 

“Yes, man! Come _on!”_

Even as they spoke, Jim was tugging his guide back to the sofa, almost manhandling him down onto the cushions as he started to explore, his mouth returning to savour Blair’s addictive taste as the smaller man reciprocated with equal enthusiasm and urgency. Their lust was too intense for either of them to last long, and after just a few minutes of frantic rubbing against each other, and pawing at each other’s clothing, they came together in a glorious burst of love, light and understanding. The bond was set. 

At last. 

As both men gradually came down from their high, Blair gazed up at Jim from his awkward position, scrunched between the back of the sofa and Jim’s long body. His beautiful blue eyes were smoky with sated lust and the warmth of a love enhanced by his new knowledge. Reaching up a slightly shaky hand to cup Jim’s cheek, he murmured wonderingly, “Did you see them? Did you see the same as me?” 

And Jim smiled down into those adoring and adorable eyes, his own face relaxed and content as he nodded. “Yeah, Chief, I did. And I freely admit that this time I can accept the vision for what it was. I promise!” 

The vision that they had shared was indeed both a message and a promise, and one by which both men were prepared to live from now on. As they lay quietly in other’s arms, they both took a moment to relive the scene. 

As their desperate lovemaking commenced, both men envisaged a jungle clearing, where Jim’s sleek, black jaguar emerged silently from the undergrowth to fix its fierce but compassionate gaze on the pitiful creature at the opposite side. The blue-eyed wolf was curled up, whimpering and trembling; its fur tattered and besmirched by the blood of many wounds. As it raised its head to meet the jaguar’s intense stare, it rose slowly to its feet, a look of longing and fragile hope blooming in the wounded blue depths. And suddenly they were moving towards each other, faster and faster, their joy burgeoning as they leapt as one and merged in a blinding flash of light, together again, as they always had been, and always would be. Two halves of one soul forever. 

His smile soft, and expression still faintly inward-looking, Blair breathed in awe, “Oh man! That was transcendental! I never knew, Jim,” he continued, his attention now fully focussed on his sentinel once again. “I never knew it could be like that, man. All my studying never prepared me for that. That…that was nothing like the nightmares, Jim. It was real. I mean,” he added, somewhat shyly as if he still expected to be mocked, “It was for real. Not a terrifying hallucination planted in my head by someone wanting to control me. 

“Someone like Joshua,” he finished sadly, ashamed now of his meek acceptance of something he now knew was so wrong. 

“Hush, babe,” Jim murmured, his thumb now gently stroking the silky skin of Blair’s lower lip. “Don’t blame yourself, Chief. If I hadn’t been so desperate to deny your gifts, we would have bonded well before now, and you wouldn’t have been vulnerable in the first place. I just couldn’t accept that you should have to bind yourself to me so completely, even though it was something I wanted more than anything in the world. So I denied everything, telling myself it was for your own good. And thanks to Incacha, I soon found out that I was so wrong. Understanding and accepting the spiritual side of this whole Sentinel and Guide thing might never come easily to me, but I’m not denying the power of the shaman ever again. And I swear to love and protect you always, my Guide.” 

“As I will you, my Sentinel,” Blair replied, his joy plain to see. 

They kissed again, this time slowly and reverently, savouring a few minutes’ of simple pleasure and respite from care until Jim reluctantly pulled away again. His grin now somewhat wry as he took in Blair’s dishevelled state, and also beginning to feel itchy and uncomfortable, he chuckled, “You know what, babe? I can’t remember the last time I came in my pants! Not since high school, I’m sure.” 

To which Blair replied rather bashfully, “Oh, I remember, man. It was the first time I saw you all dressed up and ready to go out on a hot date. I never made the bathroom in time. Shit, man! I was so jealous!” he snickered, but Jim could easily make out the pain underlying his guide’s self-deprecating admission. 

“I’m so sorry, Chief,” he murmured, sobering again. “I guess we were both in denial, huh? Or too close to see what was under our noses. But better late than never.” 

“You got that right, man,” Blair replied, happy again. “Pull me up?” 

And Jim helped him to his feet, ushering him towards the bathroom so that they could clean up. Preferably in a shared shower.  


\---------------------------------  


Some while later they emerged hand in hand; clean and refreshed and ready to make themselves comfortable on the sofa again. The satisfied glow on both their faces was due at least in part to their recent activity, since they had taken the opportunity to pleasure each other again, gently and lovingly under the warm spray. 

As far as Jim was concerned, Blair looked impossibly cute bundled warmly in the oversized Cascade PD tee and sweats Jim had sorted out for him, while Blair had a hard time to not actually drool over the sculpted upper body so well showcased by Jim’s sleeveless tank top. But both men knew that this wasn’t the time to be distracted by their mutual sexual attraction and gratification. They had a difficult, if not impossible task ahead of them, and they couldn’t put it off any longer. 

Turning sideways to meet Blair’s now somewhat anxious gaze, Jim took both of his new lover’s hands as he spoke, his sincerity clear in his eyes and voice. “You know what we have to do, babe. I know I haven’t always been the most receptive student you’ve ever had to deal with, but at last I know where I belong. And where you belong, sweetheart. Incacha told me we would have to stand together to defeat the evil that tried to take you away from me. And I’m ready now, if you are.” 

Blair studied him for a long moment, his own expression clearly nervous. Knowing Jim intimately as he now did, he realised that Jim was still uneasy about their spiritual connection, but he also knew that there was no way the older man would let him face up to such peril alone. And that gave him the confidence to respond, his own expression becoming resolute and determined despite the slight tremor in his voice. 

“Thanks, Jim. You’ll never know how much it means to me that you trust me to defeat this evil. These _demons_ who wanted to break us up and use me like some pathetic puppet. And I know that together we can do it. As long as you believe in me, I’ll do my very best to live up to Incacha’s expectations, I promise. I never want to let you – _us_ – down. But you do know it’s going to have to be on the spirit plane, don’t you?” he added, a little anxiously. 

He needn’t have worried, however, because Jim offered him a sad smile as he replied. 

“Oh yeah, babe. I think that was inevitable. Ambrose and Constantine attacked you in the first place by manipulating your dreams from the spirit world, as I’m certain they have done for many others. They just had to plant a few seeds of doubt in your mind to make you more susceptible. I think that’s where their real strength lies, but also their weakness. I don’t think they’ve ever had to confront someone with your raw power, Chief, which is why they were so desperate to win you over to the ‘Dark Side’ if you will. I don’t pretend to understand everything about their beliefs, but I do know what I believe. And that is that we have the power to defeat them, babe. And that time is now.” 

Looking up at Jim with open adoration and admiration, Blair smiled gently in response. “OK, Big Guy. Let’s do it. Let’s go do our thing, huh?” And he was inordinately pleased when Jim chuckled in appreciation of his attempt at a gung-ho approach. 

“I’m with you there, babe. Time to go for that spirit walk, want to?” 

And Blair hugged him hard before pulling away to meet his loving gaze. 

“Yeah, man,” he answered with a grin. “Ready when you are.”  


\-----------------------------------  


**Part 3: Duel to the Death?**  


Jim and Blair sat opposite each other on the floor in front of the sofa, their hands linked to form a complete circle of power. Blair sat easily in a full lotus position, while Jim was as comfortable as he could get in a tailor’s cross-legged posture. The room was in darkness, relieved only by the lambent light thrown out by the meditation candles surrounding them. Gazing into each other’s eyes, they sought to relax as much as possible, getting into a mood mellow enough to allow their spirits to leave their earthly bodies and fly free. Soft, rhythmic drumming sounded in the background from one of Blair’s meditation tapes, and sitting quietly, beyond the glow of the candlelight, Megan and Joel sat side by side, silent and watchful. They were there to make certain that no harm befell Jim and Blair’s corporeal bodies during the spirit walk. 

Soon, Jim and Blair’s eyes drifted shut, and as Blair swayed gently from side to side murmuring his favourite mantra, their breathing became synchronised, as did their heartbeats. They were ready.  


\----------------------------------  


Once again, Blair found himself in his wolf form, standing at the edge of a large, roughly circular jungle clearing. Gazing around him, his senses on high alert, he quickly spotted the two jackals, which appeared at two other points on the circumference, rather like some bizarre Mexican stand-off. Their eyes glinted with a combination of rage, lust and greed as they crept forward, apparently intending to attack him from two sides at once, and he couldn’t help but shiver in nervous anticipation. However, just as the jackals began to close in, a movement in the undergrowth behind the wolf announced the arrival of the black jaguar, who took up a protective stance next to his mate. 

With snarls of pure fury and frustration, the jackals stopped dead in their tracks, exchanging speaking glances as they seemed to reconsider their plans while wolf and jaguar roared and howled their defiance. It didn’t stop them for long, however, and then they were running again, throwing themselves at the sentinel and shaman spirit pair, snapping, snarling and biting in ferocious savagery. All four creatures tumbled and fought, drawing blood again and again as they ripped into each other. It seemed like both sides were fairly evenly matched for a while, until the wolf and jaguar finally got the upper hand. Still snarling in feral rage, the jackals slowly backed off, blood dripping freely from their many wounds as they sought to regroup. 

Suddenly the air shimmered as the scene changed, and the jackals morphed into their human forms. But how different they were from the ones they adopted on the earthly plane. Standing side by side, Ambrose and Constantine emitted pure evil, their faces made grotesque by the demonic spirits within them. Gone were the urbane, attractive academics, and in their place stood dark devils incarnate, twisted and deformed by the satanic powers they had absorbed over the centuries. Finding himself also back in his human form, although dressed in the garments of a native shaman, Blair couldn’t help but shudder at the sight of them, and for a terrifying moment he felt powerless to react when the pair raised their hands as one, throwing out their combined power towards him as he stood helpless before them. Their energy surged and crackled like a living stream of bright fire as it stretched out to engulf him, and he felt it battering against his mind as wicked, mocking voices encouraged him to submit. 

“Come, little shaman. You can still break free from that _Watchman!_ Your bond means nothing. Come and join us. You are powerless against us. You know this, little one! Why choose to die here in agony on the spirit plane when you can be a part of us? Of what we are and what we share? Think how much power you too can share, little one! The world can be yours! Come now, or die!” 

Screaming in denial, Blair struggled in vain for what seemed an eternity of fear and pain, before suddenly feeling a surge of power and love from close by. He realised that Jim was behind him, holding him tightly as the sentinel willed his own strength to bolster that of Blair’s, and suddenly the power balance shifted again. With Jim at his back, protecting, comforting and supporting him, Blair felt his own strength growing exponentially as he absorbed his soulmate’s freely-given energy. Raising his own hands, he reached out towards the evil couple, his eyes now flashing with the fire of a true shaman. A shaman with the capability of harnessing the power of the very elements themselves. And that was exactly what he did. 

Instinctively drawing on the knowledge of the ancients, he cried out in their long-forgotten tongue, conjuring up the dust at his feet to hurl it at his enemies in a whirlwind. The whirlwind grew in power and speed as it whipped across the clearing, enveloping the evil pair even as they tried to counterattack. But it was too little, too late, and soon they were completely trapped within the vortex, which whirled them higher and higher until they disappeared even from sentinel sight, their wails of impotent fury and denial fading in the distance. 

Trembling now from exertion, Blair turned shakily and hugged Jim, whose strong arms encircled him to hold him close. After a few moments simply soaking up his sentinel’s love and comfort, Blair raised his head to meet Jim’s concerned gaze. “’M’OK, lover. Just drained, you know? But we did it, Jim. Thank you….” And he slumped down in a dead faint.  


\---------------------------  


Back in the loft, Jim jerked awake just in time to catch Blair as he fell forward. Immediately, Megan and Joel appeared at his side, their matching expressions transmitting both curiosity and real concern. 

“Bloody hell, Jimbo! What’s wrong with Sandy? Is he OK?” Megan’s anxious query was softly-spoken, but urgent and sincere, and Jim bit back the snippy response he had been about to make. Cuddling the limp form of his guide on his lap, he offered her a small smile instead. 

“It’s OK, Megs. He’s just exhausted is all. He did it,” he continued, looking from Megan to Joel and back down at his sleeping guide, his voice conveying his love and pride. “He defeated those evil bastards just like I knew he could. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Yeah, with you at his side, all the way,” Megan offered with a warm smile. “I know Sandy is a much stronger person than he’d ever admit, but it needed the pair of you to overcome such evil. Sentinel and Shaman, working together. I’m sure of that, too.” 

“Meg’s right, Jim,” Joel concurred. “Certainly Blair is a gifted shaman and guide, but from what I understand, it takes two to work your sort of magic. And I thank God that you have each other.” 

“And now,” he continued, “Unless there’s something else you need us to do, we’ll leave you two in peace. But we’ll call in tomorrow to make sure you’re OK. Does that work for you?” 

And Jim smiled warmly as he climbed carefully to his feet, cradling his guide in his arms. “Thanks Joel. For everything. And you too, Megs. Especially for believing in us. If you can let yourselves out, I’ll get Sleeping Beauty here into bed. And we’ll see you tomorrow.”   


\---------------------------------------  


It was the early hours of the following morning before Blair finally began to rouse from his exhausted sleep. Propped up on his elbow, Jim smiled tenderly down at the twitches and snuffles that heralded his lover’s gradual awakening. The smaller man was curled on his side, facing away from Jim, his warm body tucked snuggly with his back to Jim’s chest in the same position as he had been in all night. And Jim had watched over him the whole time, despite his own tiredness. There was no way he’d deny himself the pleasure of guarding his exhausted partner, who deserved all the love and protection Jim could give him. 

Eventually, two sleepy blue eyes blinked open, and a jaw-cracking yawn announced that Blair was finally back in the land of the living. Turning his head a little stiffly so he could peer myopically up into Jim’s smiling face, he croaked out, “Oh, man! Did you see what hit me? Did you get the plate number?” 

And as Jim laughed out loud at this evidence of his young guide’s unquenchable spirit, Blair rolled all the way over onto his back, eyes suffused with love and a little self-directed humour as he grinned wryly up into his sentinel’s handsome face. 

“Hey, Jim,” he murmured softly, raising a hand to cup Jim’s stubbled cheek. “Have you been awake all night? Watching over me?” And when Jim nodded, unashamedly leaning into his guide’s warm palm, Blair gazed wonderingly at him, saying, “Oh, man! That was above and beyond, man. But thank you anyway. No wonder I slept so well. My subconscious must have known you were guarding me so I could just let go. That’s just so…so amazing.” 

Although Jim was about to shrug it off as nothing with some flippant comment, he stopped himself, suddenly knowing that his young partner had probably never experienced that sort of care and consideration before, even from Naomi. Blair had always been essentially alone, despite his raft of friends and acquaintances. As he had shyly admitted to Jim not so very long before their argument, Jim was the first real friend he’d ever had, and the loft was his first real home. Quickly swallowing down the lump of emotion that was threatening to choke him, Jim said instead, “No problem, Chief. It’s no more than you deserve, and I’d do it again, anytime, OK?” 

This time it was Blair who had to blink away a few tears of gratitude, but before the situation could descend into pathos, Jim smiled down at him again and gently ruffled his tangled curls. 

“You ready for a trip to the bathroom yet, or shall we cuddle a bit first?” He couldn’t quite keep the hopeful tone from his voice, so Blair was happy to oblige. 

“Well, I certainly am pretty ripe, and I’ll need to pee pretty soon, but I’m up for a cuddle first, man!” 

And a grinning Jim wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity like that.  


\--------------------------------------  


**Epilogue:**  


**Some weeks later, Simon’s office:**  


“Congratulations, Dr Sandburg! I’m very pleased for you, kid. ‘Bout time too!” Simon’s gruff tone and assumed scowl were belied by the twinkle in his eyes, and Blair was happy to accept the older man’s praise for what it was. 

“Thanks, Captain. I have to say that it feels good, even if I didn’t use the ‘you-know-what’ subject,” and he reached over to pat Jim’s knee, sending him a loving and reassuring smile. 

“I think we all know that it wouldn’t have been possible to keep Jim completely anonymous, so it’s for the best. And I’m fine about it,” he hastened to add. “At some point I intend to re-write the original ‘Sentinel’ diss as a sort of instruction manual for those with heightened senses, but I don’t need to use Jim’s specific data at all. So it’s all good, man.” 

“Pleased to hear it, kid. So, have you considered the Chief’s offer? We could do with an official consultant, and a Doctor of Anthropology will do very nicely. And of course, I’m sure you’ll be able to make time to ride with Jim whenever you can, hey?” 

Grinning widely now, Blair nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, Simon. We’ve talked it through, and are happy with what we’ve decided, as long as it works for you. You want to explain, Jim?” 

“Nah, it’s OK, Chief,” Jim replied with a fond smile. “Talking’s your thing after all, so go ahead.” 

Blair’s eyes sparkled, the love in them just for Jim as he met his big lover’s gaze for a moment before turning back to face Simon, just in time to catch the fleeting, smug grin that flashed across the captain’s face before he resumed his normal stern expression. Blair couldn’t help the blush that pinked his cheeks, but he met Simon’s regard without embarrassment, knowing that the older man was a good friend who had accepted their new relationship with admirable aplomb. 

“Um, well, this is what we’d like to do, if, as I say, it works for you and the department, Captain. Now I’ve received my doctorate, Rainier has offered me a position as an adjunct professor, seeing as I told them that I was thinking of leaving to pursue a different career. It would mean being available for a limited number of hours per week at the U, but should still leave me plenty of time to ride with Jim and do whatever consultancy work you need from me. Because in all honesty, I can’t see it being a full-time position yet, if ever. I know it would be preferable if I was Jim’s permanent partner, but the only way I could really do that would be to go to the academy. And I really can’t see myself as a cop, sir. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t carry, and as an official partner, I couldn’t do my job properly as a guide.” 

When Simon looked somewhat puzzled, he continued, “You see, sir, I’d have to go wherever I was ordered during dangerous situations, when where I really need to be is at Jim’s side, backing him up and grounding his senses. I couldn’t do that from the other side of a building, Simon. What if he was to zone? I need to be there for him. 

“And although I know he’s not too happy about it,” he added, with a cheeky grin aimed at his now frowning partner, “at least now Megan and Joel know what’s going on with us, so they can step in where necessary on the occasions when I’m not available.” 

“Thanks, Chief,” Jim grumped in not-quite-faked irritation. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen too often, OK? Megan pinches hard enough to leave bruises!” then his face relaxed once again into a soft smile for his lover before he met his captain’s intense regard. 

“So, what do you think, sir? Would the Chief and Commissioner agree to Blair being employed on a part-time, case-by-case basis?” Casually reaching over to take Blair’s hand, he quirked an eyebrow at his boss, hoping that their arguments had been enough to win him over. Although Blair had assured him that he would be happy to accept a full-time position at the PD; knowing his lover as he now did, Jim had understood that it would be hard for the younger man to completely cut himself off from his academic life, so this seemed to be the best compromise. 

After a deliberately prolonged pause, Simon decided not to keep his friends on tenterhooks any longer. Grinning widely now, he growled, “Don’t see why not, Detective. And Consultant Sandburg. Or should that be ‘Consultant Professor Dr Sandburg’? Heh, heh!” and he chuckled at their somewhat bemused expressions. _Still got it,_ he thought. _Had ‘em worried for a bit._

He was rewarded by a full wattage Sandburg smile, and Jim’s wasn’t too shabby either. 

“That’s great, sir!” and “Thank you so much, Simon!” came the virtually simultaneous responses, and his own smile widened even more. It was good to see this pair so happy at last, and fully reconciled at that. Whatever had tried to come between them had been foiled, and they had come through their trial the stronger for it. And now he got to benefit officially from the kid’s intellectual expertise and general morale-boosting exuberant personality. 

God, he loved his job.  


\---------------------------------------  


After a few more minutes’ conversation, and congratulatory handshakes all round, Jim and Blair left Simon’s office to return to Jim’s desk, only for Blair to detour via Megan’s desk to give her and Joel the good news. Smiling to himself as he watched his guide’s expressive hands waving in accompaniment to his excited words, Jim sat down and pulled his once again overflowing in-tray towards him. Rather than actually read the first file he opened, however, he listened in to their light-hearted conversation with half his attention, while the rest of his mind wandered free for a few minutes, pondering on the events of the past few weeks. 

Weeks in which the sentinel and guide bond had strengthened to such an extent that they were almost completely in sync, even finishing each other’s sentences on occasion. Two halves of one whole indeed, just as Incacha had predicted.  


\--------------------------------------  


It had begun with Blair moving back into the loft, only rather than returning to his small room under the stairs, he was now safely ensconced with Jim in the big upstairs bedroom. Their love – and love making – had continued to develop in both passion and expertise, to the delight of both men. Each occasion cemented their relationship a little more, both in body and spirit, such that neither man could even imagine being alone ever again. Blair was convinced that, should Jim pre-decease him, he would follow very quickly, as he believed that one couldn’t now exist without the other. Jim had been upset at first, as not only was he older by almost a decade, but it was only too likely in his profession that that might well prove to be the case, and he didn’t want to think of Blair dying prematurely because of it. But his guide and lover had smiled gently as he explained how he felt. 

“It’s fine, Jim. Please don’t be upset. I’m perfectly content to believe that I’ll follow you into death. After all, we both know that there’s something else to look forward to. Another plane of existence where we can be together forever. What’s not to like?” 

And Jim had finally accepted his lover’s reassurance that he really was comfortable with their likely fate, and vowed to make the most of every minute of their life together in this world first. 

Not everything had been quite so easy, however, as even when Blair had moved back in with Jim, he hadn’t been able to accompany him to the PD as before. Despite knowing about the ‘sentinel stuff’, and Blair’s real role in it, and despite the fact that his new diss topic actually was a version of the ‘Thin Blue Line’ study, Simon had been unable to reinstate Blair’s observer’s pass. According to TPTB, the grad student had been hurt too many times in his capacity as Jim’s unofficial partner, so they weren’t prepared to risk the possibility of either being sued or facing adverse publicity should something worse befall him. They were, however, quite taken with the idea of employing Blair in an official role once he had his doctorate. He had made a big enough contribution to Jim’s impressive arrest and conviction record despite being untrained, and they believed the PD as a whole couldn’t fail to benefit from his brilliance and input as a consultant. Although disappointed, Blair had accepted the situation, and had stoically tasked himself with finishing and defending his paper as soon as possible so he could take them up on their offer. And in the meantime, he had coached Megan and Joel in what they needed to watch out for when working with Jim, and what to do if the worst happened. 

Jim smiled a little ruefully to himself as he recalled the few times they had actually had to resort to employing those techniques, or _thought_ they had to. In general he had managed to control his senses pretty well, knowing that he had Blair to reconnect with as soon as he got home from work. But a couple of times he had been caught out with painful sensory spikes, and had zoned properly once. And woke up to Megan pinching him so hard he nearly threw a punch at her. No, he hadn’t appreciated her help that time one little bit! 

But now it looked like all would be well. Blair had the doctorate he so deserved, and Jim would get his partner back. What could be better? 

But there was something that could still hurt them if they let it. And Jim wasn’t about to forget it. 

Jim looked over towards where Blair was still explaining about his new job to his smiling and receptive audience. He knew that both he and Blair had cause to be grateful for their friendship and their discretion, and in particular their amazing and unquestioning support during and after the spirit walk. 

When Megan and Joel had returned to the loft to check on Jim and Blair the following morning, both had listened intently to Blair’s faltering description of what had happened, and neither one had baulked in the slightest at what they heard. And once the tale was told, all four of them agreed that it should go no further than between the four of them. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Simon, but he had a hard enough time dealing with what he called the ‘Sentinel voodoo shit’. It hardly seemed fair or appropriate to even try to explain about spirit guides, demonic possession and shamanic power. Let him believe that Jim’s ruse had worked and that he and Sandburg had talked things through and reconciled their differences. What he didn’t know about Ambrose and Constantine’s real interest in and influence on Blair wouldn’t hurt him. 

And as it happened, over the next few days, it seemed as if the fallout from whole episode would play out fairly straightforwardly after all as far as their captain was concerned. 

Not that any of them were at all convinced that everything was done and dusted, whatever Simon chose to believe, and that was something that still had the power to cause concern. 

Jim recalled being summoned to Simon’s office mere days after that fateful confrontation. Captain Banks knew that Blair was back at the loft where he belonged, but had no real idea of what had preceded it. Or what had happened next. All he knew was that certain odd facts had recently come to light involving those academics Blair had been involved with, and that was the gist of the information he passed on to Jim. And he saw absolutely no reason to take it at any more than face value. 

Once Jim was seated comfortably with a cup of Banks’ gourmet coffee to hand, Simon had begun to clue him in. 

Apparently, a couple of days after Blair returned to the loft, a burnt-out wreck of a car had been spotted at the bottom of a ravine in the Cascade National Forest. The occupants were too badly burned to ID for certain, but their surviving personal items had suggested that they were Drs Joshua Ambrose and Amelia Constantine. It seemed to have been no more than a tragic accident, with the car crashing through a barrier after taking a sharp bend too fast, and bursting into flames on impact with the valley floor. End of story. 

However, over the next few days Simon had learned from his opposite number in the New Orleans PD that all over the city people had been coming forward to the police. Or trying to flee in panic. Almost as if awakening from some sort of walking coma, people from all walks of life found themselves in situations which they would never have entered into willingly, be they illegal or otherwise. From businessmen to politicians, from the judiciary to crime lords, from teachers to home makers, individuals were turning themselves in or even having themselves committed, convinced that they were going crazy. And Jim had believed that he knew exactly what was happening, although he had had no intention of explaining it to Simon either then or now. 

With Jim’s help, Blair had defeated his demons in the spirit world, and on the earthly plane, their influence was at an end. Whatever cults or influential societies they had created were falling apart. 

Nevertheless, when he had discussed the situation with Blair that evening, with Blair tucked firmly against his side for comfort, both had agreed that it was just possible that Ambrose and Constantine still lived. The burned and mutilated bodies could have been innocent victims, set up by the evil duo to facilitate their escape; thus enabling them to re-emerge at some other place with false IDs, to lick their wounds and regroup as best they could. 

Raising his head from where he had buried his face against Jim’s broad chest, Blair had gazed mournfully up into Jim’s sympathetic eyes. 

“Oh, man! Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Jim? That I didn’t actually kill them after all? Perhaps they got away. Are still alive to fight another day! And if so, who were those two poor people that died in their stead?” 

“I think we may never know, Chief,” Jim had murmured gently after placing a soft kiss on his guide’s trembling lips. “But one thing I do believe, sweetheart. And I want you to believe it too. If they are still alive on the earthly plane, they won’t be troubling anyone for years to come. Maybe even centuries. You burned them out, babe. Drained them of so much of their evil power that it’ll take that long for them to even consider trying to corrupt vulnerable people again.” 

“Like me, you mean?” Blair had whispered disgustedly, ducking his head. But then he had met Jim’s ardent gaze again and had continued with grim determination. “Well, OK, then. Now we know what to look for we can do it again. And next time I’ll do it properly!” 

And Jim couldn’t help but laugh out loud in appreciation of his new lover’s unbowed spirit. “That you will, my beautiful shaman. Absolutely no doubt about it!”  


\---------------------------------------  


Just then, Jim was roused from his brief reverie by a gentle squeeze to his shoulder, and he glanced up to see Blair smiling down at him, his expression both fond and inquisitive. “You OK, lover?” he murmured sentinel-soft. “You look like you were having some deep thoughts there, man.” 

And Jim smiled back at him, his face open and his gaze frankly appreciative. “Just wool-gathering, Chief. Nothing to worry about, I promise!” then he dropped his voice as he added, “You’d find out soon enough anyway tonight wouldn’t you?” and this time his expression was almost comically lecherous, and Blair couldn’t help but snicker happily in response. 

“Oh, you bet I could,” he murmured softly, his voice no more than a throaty – and very suggestive – purr, which made Jim’s libido instantly sit up and take notice. However, before they could embarrass themselves in the middle of the bullpen, they exchanged a speaking glance full of promise before Blair bounced on his toes. 

“So,” he continued in his normal cheerful voice. “You want to go for a celebratory lunch, Jim? Megs and Joel are up for it if you like the idea. And I think Rafe and H’ll probably want to join us too if they have the time. Maybe even Simon. What about it? Want to?” 

And he looked so cute and hopeful that of course Jim would never say no. Not anymore. Not ever again. Rising to his feet, he threw an arm around his beloved guide’s shoulders as he whispered into a curl-covered ear. 

“Oh, I want to, baby. My shaman lover and guide. I’ll _always_ want to!” and in joyful accord, they left the bullpen, leaving a trail of smiles and happiness in their wake.   


**The End.**


End file.
